


The Hunchback of Camelot

by BobSaysHelloFromNL



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Has Issues, Canon Era, Destiny is strange in this one, Evil Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Good Morgana (Merlin), Hunchback AU, Inspired by Disney, Inspired by Notre-Dame de Paris | The Hunchback of Notre Dame, M/M, Merlin is a magician, Multi, Stockholm Syndrome, but it gets better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26061145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BobSaysHelloFromNL/pseuds/BobSaysHelloFromNL
Summary: Cursed to look like a monster, Arthur lives his life imprisoned in one of Camelot's towers. Merlin is living the good life with his little band of misfits and his travelling magic act.Somehow, they meet at the festival. Camelot wasn't ready for this.Disney's Hunchback of the Notre-Dame AU, Arthur is the hunchback and Merlin is Esmeralda.No movie knowledge required
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 103





	1. The Princess and the Hunchback

**Prologue**

Our story follows the life of a young man - although to understand the true nature of his misfortune, we must go back to a time before his birth, to a time when a King loved his Queen, even though she sadly could not provide him with an heir. 

They both despaired and the King turned to his trusted advisor for help. He in turn sought out the help of the great and powerful sorceress Nimueh, a High Priestess of the Old Religion. She told the king that in order to create a life, another one must be taken to restore balance. We can only guess as to what went through the King's mind when he insisted that she perform the spell nonetheless. Perhaps he didn't believe Nimeuh's warning, perhaps he did not care about the costs. Whatever his motivations may have been, the spell took a hold and the Queen fell pregnant. 

Now if things had been just fine after that, I would not be sitting here to tell you this tale, for it would have been a short one indeed. Unfortunately for everyone involved, the High Priestess's warning rang true. On what should have been the happiest day of their lives, the Queen gave birth to a son and the King said goodbye to his Queen. Many a person mourned for her, none more so than the King himself. He could not find it in him to blame his son, who his Queen had already loved even though she had never laid eyes on him. Instead, he found guilt in Nimueh and all those who followed her. His grief, so overwhelming, twisted into something darker. A hatred for all things magic. 

_He sought to purge the world from vile and sin and saw corruption everywhere, except within._

Now this story’s beginnings may be resembling of ones that have been told many a time before, but there is one thing most stories get wrong. See, for a long time people believed that this child, born without a mother, died not even a year into his life. Killed by an evil sorceress, they say, another casualty in the war against magic. In reality, this had been the morally-dubious-but-not-evil sorceress Nimueh, and the boy had not been harmed at all, at least not in the traditional sense. Instead, in a confrontation between the King and the Priestess, a curse had been cast that left the young boy crying in fright, but not in pain. "It is not just truth that can be ugly," were the sorceress’ last words before she left the castle forever.

Fearing for his son, the King ran towards his advisor who'd been charged with taking care of him. "Let me see him," the King demanded, and he looked upon his son. His now deformed son. A baby and a monster. 

_And for one time in his life of power and control, Uther felt a twinge of fear for his own soul._

Throughout the years the details of the prince’s appearances have changed, affected by gossip and the simple fading of memories. There were not many who have witnessed his curse in person, for the King was careful to keep him hidden away from the public eye. The most common descriptions say that he had a thick coat of fur across his body, donkey’s ears sticking out from his head and his young skin turned the sickliest grey. I imagine his face would have been misshapen as well, based on how the King reacted to seeing him. 

Total disgust. "Get him out of my sight," the King ordered. "Keep him locked in the tower until it wears off, where no one else can see. This never happened, not a word, understand?" 

_Who is the monster and who is the man?_

His advisor could only acquiesce in the face of his King's fury. He soothed the crying baby and hurried away, although he did make a detour to his own chambers first, for he was also a skilled physician and well-versed in magic. Once he felt assured that the boy was not hurting or in immediate danger, he did go to the East Tower where he stayed with the child. 

If he had waited there for the King to show up, he'd have waited a long time. In fact, it would be another month yet before the King brought himself to face the truth: that his son might not be cured for a long time.

So it was that the people of Camelot, for that's what the kingdom was called, lost their prince. 

_See there the innocent blood you have spilt_

_'tween the walls of Camelot_

_Now you will add this child's life to your guilt_

_'tween the walls of Camelot_

_You can lie to yourself and your minions_

_That there's evil in those that you've caught_

_But you never can run from_

_Nor hide what you've done from the eyes_

_The very eyes of Camelot_

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Arthur's childhood had mostly been a lonely one. Growing up in his tower, he was practically raised by the court physician, a kind man named Gaius. When he got old enough to walk and talk and start asking questions, Gaius's visits grew less frequent as the King made sure to keep him busy with other tasks. Still, the man did his best to visit Arthur at least every other day.

Other than Gaius, for a long time the only other people he saw were the maids when they came in to clean his room every so often. But Arthur knew he wasn't allowed to talk to them, the King had told him so. He also told him he must hide in his closet whenever the sound of footsteps could be heard, for the people would be very angry if they found out about him. He could not understand why, for they looked friendly to him; but he knew that King Uther was always right so hide away he did. Arthur did not like the closet and was glad that the maids never stuck around for long. 

One time he had slipped up badly, he knew. He got curious - which he shouldn't have - and when he heard the sound of footsteps going up the stairs, instead of sneaking towards his closet, he opened up the door and stood there. The maid had screamed out, a terrifying sound to his young ears, and backed up in fright, losing her footing on the stone stairs. Arthur reached forward, frightened as he was, to help her, but she'd slapped his hands away. She tumbled down the steps, her cleaning supplies sent flying through the air. 

Her cry had alarmed a guard posted downstairs, who after some brief hesitation, began to loudly scale the winding steps. Arthur had then fled back to his closet, which he from then on saw as his sanctuary. He’d stayed there as the guard carried the chambermaid away, and Arthur had been too afraid to ask about her the next time Gaius came to visit. 

The King had later told him on his monthly visit that the woman had died. At the time he did not fully understand the concept of death yet, but he knew that it meant he would never see her again. He would have been glad about that, had he not sensed the King's deep disapproval. From then on, he never complained about the closet again. Still, he was glad when one day the King deemed him old enough to start cleaning his own mess. From then on, the only strangers that ever came to his door were the ones who shoved a tray of food inside and left. 

Time went by and Arthur grew taller and bigger, but not less hideous. He got tall enough that if he stood on his chair, he could see more than just sky from outside his window. He could see the people! He could see knights, in their gleaming armour and with their pointy weapons. He could see servants, running errands or caring for the horses (he could see horses!) And best of all, if he squinted his eyes, he could see the lower town, where there were so many sorts of people. 

Arthur had long learned that Gaius did not like to answer questions about the King or even Arthur himself, but he found out that the physician did not mind talking about the people he saw in the town. And so he learned all about them, what they did and who they were friends with, he even got to know some of their names. 

However, with his growing sense of consciousness of the world around him, Arthur became more and more aware that there was something wrong with him. He knew that most people did not have large fuzzy ears like his, in fact, most people were not fuzzy at all. He was also very large for his age, he knew. His hands were too big for him. And what were those things that felt so strange on his face? Gaius and the King did not have them, and from what he could tell the people outside didn't have them either.

Whenever he did try to squeeze it into the conversation, Gaius would get that strange look upon his face, one that Arthur later came to associate with guilt. "You'll have to ask the King about it," was the answer he usually gave. Years from now, we know Gaius would come to regret those exact words, when he found out what it was that the King had been telling poor Arthur. At the time though, he still had a glimmer of faith in his King and it was out of loyalty to him that he stayed quiet.

Teaching Arthur how to read proved to be a great distraction. It opened up the world a bit more for Arthur, which he came to see as a blessing and a curse. He read about the histories of great men, but he was unable to participate in real-life. He read about the most exciting of adventures, which he could not go on. He read about far-away places, which he would never get to see.

After reading, came writing. At first this proved to be more of a struggle, because his oversized hands were not made for nimble movements, but eventually he learned to adapt to it. Gaius provided him with the best parchment, and Arthur started writing his own stories. Made-up ones, of course. He loved to imagine the lives of the people he saw from his window, and now he had the means to write them down as well. He also taught himself how to illustrate those stories, although he could never figure out exactly what the streets would look like if viewed from the ground. 

That's how he spent most of his teen days. He still had a tendency to complain, but never to the King. Only in his head, or to his drawings, or Gaius. Life was monotonous and dull, until one day it suddenly wasn't.

* * *

See, unbeknownst to Arthur, there lived another child in the castle. Had lived there for almost as long as Arthur had been contained in the tower. Her name? Morgana.

Shortly after the prince had been declared dead by the King, he revealed to his people that he had a second heir. Only a few weeks old, Morgana became a princess and a Pendragon. The people of Camelot were able to overlook the scandal of his affair, overjoyed by the news of a princess, whom they saw as a new hope for the kingdom. 

Morgana soon moved in with her mother, Vivienne, and her sister, Morgause. A few years into her stay, however, they both tragically died in a bandit attack, or so the King told her. All she knew was that the King was now her only family. She shared dinner with him, she had servants to talk to, but what she really wanted was someone her own age to play with. 

She was a stubborn and naturally curious child. Always roaming around the castle, listening in on people's conversations, despite not understanding very much of it at first. Her father allowed her to go outside, but only with a handful of guards accompanying her. She quickly decided she did not like that very much at all, and she came up with a new game: hide from the seeking guards. After a while she started feeling a bit sorry for the guards and decided it would be better for everyone involved if she just snuck out on her own instead. And so, she did. For the most part she played the obedient princess, only a few temper tantrums here and there, but she made sure that the King would never find out how little time she actually spent in her own chambers.

It was a good thing that the people loved her, because they were well aware of her mischievous streak. She was often seen strolling around the lower town, and everyone made sure to greet her with kindness and respect, for she was still a princess. And if ever some patrolling knights came around, they would make sure to help her slip away behind a stall or simply block their line of sight to her. Morgana figured that maybe being a princess wasn't so bad after all.

Now Morgana was a smart girl, but it took her some time to figure out that she had been feeling something strange. You could compare it to stepping into a room and suddenly seeing something for the first time, even though it has always been there for as long as you can remember. The sudden awareness can be jarring, and you may ask yourself how you have never really noticed it before. It was like this for Morgana when she realised that she could sense some kind of energy in the air, emanating from somewhere inside of the castle. 

Naturally, she could not resist a mystery such as this one, and so she went to explore the very same night that she'd made this discovery. As you might expect, this led her to discover the tall tower in which our young Arthur is kept hidden away. Contrary to what you may expect, the King does not usually have any guards posted there, he was of the opinion that a simple lock would do the trick. Morgana was thankful, for she knew a handy little trick to pick open simple locks such as these, using only her hairpin.

She then snuck up the stairs as silent as she could. She could tell the source of the magic - for she was pretty certain that it was magic - was close, and she figured she'd better be careful in approaching it. 

To her credit, Morgana did not scream when she saw the young man. For as disfigured as he was, she could still tell that it was a man she was looking at. They stared at each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I watched the Hunchback for the first time a few weeks ago and halfway through I had to take out my laptop and start taking notes for this story. For those who know the movie, there will be nothing gross between Frollo and Esmeralda. Phoebus has been replaced by Morgana and Gaius, but again nothing gross there. *shudders*
> 
> All the chapters have already been written so they will be posted in a timely manner. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	2. Rapunzel Goes For a Stroll

Chapter 2

Our story continues on the day before a great festival, during one of Uther's monthly visits to Arthur's tower.

"I noticed the people setting up a performing stage outside," Arthur mentioned from where he sat at his table. "Will you be attending again this year, your majesty?"

The King frowned; his gaze firmly set on the wall behind Arthur. "Have you been looking out the window again? You know you're not allowed to be seen. You should not have taken the risk."

Arthur looked at his wringing hands dejectedly. "I apologise, sire." When the silence stretched, he dared to glance up again, to see the King still fixated on the wall. He'd done it again, disappointed the King again.

"How many times do I need to remind you of this? If the people see the monster you are, they would kill you in an instant."

"I know, sire, and I am grateful to you for keeping me safe in here." And Arthur meant it. The King didn't have to save him from the sorcerer when he was a baby, but he did so out of kindness and mercy. Arthur knew it was for the best that he stayed inside, but he couldn't help being drawn towards the window. "My only wish is that one day I can repay you for your kindness. I know my presence here has been a burden for you, sire." And this Arthur also meant. The King provided him with food and drink, and he even got him nice clothes to wear!

The King merely nodded in response. "It would be well for you to remember that. As for your question, yes, I will be attending the festival again. As King I need to be seen by the simple peasant folk. Even if it is just a foolish festival."

"And the princess? Will she be accompanying you?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, of course. She has duties too, though I imagine she will find much more enjoyment out of this one than I will." The King side-eyed him suspiciously. "Why are you so keen on knowing?"

"I was just wondering," Arthur rushed to answer. He still was not sure if the King ever meant for Morgana to find him here, and if he was aware of her frequent visits. He almost said something along the lines of 'she seemed to be enjoying it well enough last year' but then remembered the window issue again and wisely remained quiet.

The King soon left again, leaving Arthur to his own company. He stared forlornly at the door and then to the window. He wished that he could be more obedient to his King, but he wasn't strong enough to resist his urge to keep looking outside. He had long ago decided that the risk was not a great one, for so far he had never been discovered. So he moved back to his position at the window, watching people running to and fro to get all the preparations done in time.

Having watched it all before in previous years, Arthur knew well what to expect. For this particular festival, he knew they'd be busy setting up the stage in the centre of the white brick square, with some stalls scattered throughout the streets leading up to it. While it used to fill him with second-hand excitement whenever the citadel was bustling, this time he only felt longing and shame as he looked upon all the happenings.

* * *

The next day he was woken up early in the morning by the sound of footsteps nearly at his door. Since it was not time for his meal yet, he expected it to be either Gaius or Princess Morgana. He got up to greet them at the door.

"I don't have too much time because I have to get ready for the festival, but I thought I could drop by for a quick visit,” Morgana announced as soon as she slipped in without knocking. “How are you?"

"Same as ever," Arthur replied, shutting the door behind her again. Morgana always insisted on asking him that question, he didn't understand why seeing as nothing ever happened in his life. "Your father visited me again, yesterday."

"Oh, what a privilege and a joy that must have been," Morgana said with a roll of her eyes. Arthur had noticed her getting more openly hostile towards King Uther; he did not feel comfortable with it but also did not want to confront her on it yet. "Let me guess, he told you once again that you are deformed and ugly, and that he's the only one you can trust, and that you have to be faithful and grateful to him and obey and stay?"

Arthur hesitated. Morgana's insights were sometimes scarily accurate. "Those things might have come up, yes. But he just wants what's best for me, you know that."

Morgana huffed a sigh, "Sometimes I wonder if you even know what's best for you."

"And let me guess, you do?"

"Well of course, that goes without saying." She smirked. "What you need right now, is to go outside."

Arthur froze. "Are you insane? No, that's not happening."

"I am going to overlook the insult for now, and yes, it is happening. Today. The square is going to be so crowded that no one is going to notice you as long as you keep your head down and your hood up. It will be fun with jugglers and music and dancing. Go on, nobody wants to be cooped up in here forever."

Arthur put his head between his crossed arms on the table. "They'll know. He will know. I'm not… normal"

Morgana softened up. "I know you are worried, but you can't stay up here forever, or else you'll watch your life slip by. Trust me when I say this, you look hideous, I won't deny it, but you could easily cover it up with a good, big cloak. You're still human."

"Well that's comforting," Arthur muttered, though in reality it did comfort him a little. He knew Morgana was not one to soften the truth, blunt as it may be. He glanced down at his hairy hands - larger than a normal set of hands had any right to be- and clenched them in frustration. Perhaps she was right, annoying as it would be to admit so. He had grown tired of the same old thing.

"I've heard some good things about today's performers. The citadel sure seemed excited to see their head act, although it was mostly the women who seemed to be looking forward to seeing him," she winked.

Arthur took the bait. "Who's he, then?"

She shrugged, "I don't know, he says he's from the Court or Miracles. Whatever that means, I suppose you shall have to go and find out for yourself. I know you have watched the guards often enough to know when it's safe to sneak out. I also know that you still have an old cloak lying around. I Would gladly have given you one of mine, but I suspect those are a bit too flashy for this occasion. I did, however, bring you a pair of gloves I just so happened to find lying around."

"I haven't even agreed to anything yet," Arthur complained half-heartedly.

"And you don't have to," was her cheeky reply. "Now let me tell you about this rumour I've heard going around about the Blacksmith's children…"

* * *

The afternoon saw the young man on his own once more, watching the square slowly filling up with people. Not for the last time, he thought about how Morgana knew him too well. Ever since she'd stumbled across his little corner of the castle, she'd insisted on visiting him multiple times a week, sometimes even multiple times a day. At first, they'd both been hesitant, and he still wonders why she kept coming back when they didn't even get along that well. Arthur had seen glimpses of her before, sneaking around the citadel, but he hadn't realised that she was the princess yet. It came as a bit of a surprise when he found out, because she acted so differently from the King. In his head, he secretly put it down to her being a girl.

Either way, he enjoyed having another visitor other than Gaius. Arthur wondered what the old man would have to say about Morgana's ideas. Would he approve? He'd never directly spoken out about Arthur's living situation, although he could tell the man was often sad when visiting him.

Could he really pull this off? While it was true that Arthur had no trouble predicting the guards' patrol routes on the castle grounds, it was getting outside that was his main concern. Morgana had repeatedly told him that it was just too easy to sneak around the castle and that it was especially lacking in security around his side of the castle. He now suspected that she'd said all those things, very aware of the thoughts that she'd been planting in his head. But knowing of her slight manipulations did not make him more immune to them.

One last glance at the festivities was all he needed to make up his mind. He dug out his slightly tattered cloak, fastened it securely around his neck and pulled his hood down as far as it could go. He picked up the gloves that Morgana had definitely stolen from some nobleman, judging by the softness and the quality of the material. Then, he opened his door.

* * *

Meanwhile, a young warlock named Merlin was running late. In his defence, he was not very experienced in the performing business yet and had not known that the King expected all performers to be present at the opening announcements. In fact, this would be Merlin's biggest crowd as of yet, for he usually got his money through other means. It had been more of a joke the first time one of his friends convinced him to give the people on the streets a bit of a show. That might have been after a few rounds at the tavern as well, otherwise they would not have been that reckless. After that the scoundrels - that's how he and his friends jokingly referred to their little band of misfits- had agreed it had not been the best decision, although Merlin found out that he did enjoy entertaining people with his magic. It had earned him some pretty good coin too, which is why he had done some more performances here and there when they needed the money.

Unfortunately, nothing in his previous experiences had prepared him for this festival - which is what led him to be in this situation, hurrying down the streets of an unknown city, a satchel containing his costume swinging behind him. He noticed several tents set up and wondered which one was supposed to be his, if any. Since he was already late, he decided to just go for the first one that seemed to be empty. Creeping around the back of one of the tents, he strained his ears to check for any activity inside of it. Hearing nothing, he moved to the opening, only to bump right into a broad-shouldered, hooded man who just seemed to be exiting.

"O, sorry! I didn't know this tent was already yours," Merlin stammered out, hastily taking a step back. "I'm in a bit of a hurry, you see, and no one showed me where I am supposed to get ready."

The man let out a sound that sounded suspiciously like a squeak before covering it up with a cough. "That's alright, nothing to worry about."

His voice surprised Merlin, who'd expected the man to sound much older, judging from his hunched stance. Although he was also still a very large person and Merlin would probably have to look up at him if the figure hadn't been so hunched over. As it was, Merlin could only see a shadow of a mouth underneath the hood. Taking his chances, he asked: "If you are done here anyway, would you mind if I used it real quick? I am one of the performers and I am supposed to be there at the opening."

The man shrugged one-sidedly. "It's not my tent either, go ahead."

"It's not?" Merlin raised an eyebrow, then he smiled widely. "I see, sneaking around in other people's tents, eh? I should have you reported for that."

The man visibly rejoiced. "What? You can't do that. Anyway, you're one to talk, weren't you about to do the same just now?"

Merlin laughed. "Lighten up, I was just pulling your leg, my friend. I'm not a hypocrite. Now, I really need to get changed though so would you mind…" he pointed behind the man, who was still blocking the entrance.

"Oh, yes. Of course," he jerked away, crowding back into the tent.

Merlin eyed his figure with interest, curious about the hood he'd still not taken off. He thought that he could catch glimpses of a beard, but he wasn't really sure. Was the man planning on staying here, then? It would be strange, but his magic felt oddly at ease with the situation, so Merlin figured it was alright. "Actually, if you're staying, would you mind watching the entrance for me while I change?"

"Alright," the man repeated after a slight hesitation.

"Great, thank you!" Merlin said before he could change his mind. He emptied his satchel's contents on a nearby table. In his personal opinion, this was probably the worst part about performing. His friends, bastards as they were, had made it for him, though he had to admit that the audience always seemed to like it. The false beard was perhaps meant as a joke, but at this point he'd embraced the old, wise wizard act. Of course, only two out of those three descriptors were lies. Merlin considered himself a young, wise warlock, thank you very much.

"You said you were one of the performers? I don't remember seeing you before."

Merlin looked up in surprise as the hooded man addressed him. "Yes, I am, and I am quite new to the business. I don't even travel around in a circus. I just take the occasional job here and there."

"But you're not from Camelot either, are you?”

He shook his head. "No, it's my first time here. Anything I should keep in mind?" he asked as he shrugged out of his worn jacket and donned his magician's robes. They were of a dark blue colour with a golden rim, and they were also inconveniently long.

"Oh um, no, nothing I can think of."

"There must be something that comes to mind. Like, I don't know, what's the best tavern in town?" Merlin joked, hoping to get more out of this secretive man.

The silence rang. Merlin looked back up again in confusion, the beard attached lopsided to his face. He hadn't said anything too out of the ordinary, had he?

When the Hood spoke up again, his voice was a bit shaky and quieter than before. "I don't really get out that often."

"Fair enough," Merlin replied easily, feeling sorry for the obviously shy man. He straightened his beard and last but not least put on his pointy hat. An idea formed. "You've been so kind in helping me out already, what would you say about lending a hand in my performance as well? I have to warn you that it could be a bit scary, but you can trust me, I promise." The moment he said it he realised how silly that must have sounded coming from a boy, roughly a man, wearing a false beard and a frankly ridiculous costume.

Inexplicably though, the hooded man said: "I'll be glad to."

"Fantastic!" Merlin smiled. "I've got to run now, but I'll be performing roughly at sundown, so you'll know when to be there. I'll keep an eye out for you in the audience."

It wasn't until Merlin had made it to the square - well into the King's speech - that he realised he'd never asked the man for his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect another update in a few days; consider commenting if you liked it!


	3. Dumbo in Disguise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headwear gets abused for the sake of entertainment.  
> And also things happen

Chapter 3

The young Arthur spent the rest of his day keeping his head down and enjoying the festivities. It was almost like magic how even the bulkiest of men could blend in with a crowd. At first, he'd been especially wary of children because they'd be able to look right up his hood, and he knew they could get very curious. But aside from a few strange looks and some pointed fingers, he had managed to get away from them before they drew more attention to him. 

With all the looking down he did, Arthur rejoiced whenever he did catch someone's face and he could recognise them as someone he'd seen before from his window. It made him excited to be among them, but it also reminded him of his own invisibility. He knew so much about these people and none of them knew anything about him. It made him want to walk up to them and introduce himself, but he knew better. 

Once he'd let go of this new sense of loneliness, he started actually enjoying himself. He'd even participated in an event called apple bobbing! His hood had dipped into the water as well, but fortunately it had dried quickly in the sun. If anything, though, the wet hood had clung to his face even better than normal. He briefly considered dumping his head into another bucket of water before going to see the man with the false beard perform. 

Most of the afternoon had gone by and most of the festivities were dying down. People started crowding around the stage, eager to watch the last act of the day. The sky was already turning orange, so Arthur figured he had better move closer to the stage as well. Just in case the strange young man from before was about to perform. Sure enough, one of the announcers was already crying: "We shall now reveal the head performer of this year's festival! He and his Court of Miracles have travelled through many kingdoms to be here today, it's the Great Dragoon!"

As he said this, a great flash of fire covered the stage, dying out again in an instant to reveal the man from before, his hat casting a shadow over his eyes, drawing attention to his wide grin enveloped by the frankly atrocious beard. 

"Good evening, King Uther, Princess Morgana," he said, giving a curt bow in the direction they were seated, on a raised platform behind most of the standing crowd. "Good evening, people of Camelot. I am going to be your last performer of today, so I hope you have all had a good time at this wonderful festival. For my first trick I will need five objects from the audience, please. Nothing too big, preferably something I can hold in one hand. Your highness, it would be my honour if you could provide us with the first object…" he trailed off, probably noticing the unenthusiastic expression on Uther's face. "Or perhaps, your majesty the princess would be willing to assist?"

Morgana smiled charmingly and took off one of her bracelets, holding it up so the audience could see. She then passed it on to one of the knights, who carried it over to the stage. 

"Lovely," Dragoon commented. "Rest assured that nothing will happen to it and you shall get it back in one piece."

Arthur saw that in the meantime the other objects had been collected from the crowd: a feathered hat, an apple, a hammer, an empty bottle and mysteriously enough someone's shoe?

"Ah, it seems we have an extra item, but that shouldn't be much of a problem" Dragoon smiled winningly. "Now, music, please!"

The minstrels started playing, slowly at first and ever increasing in pace and volume. Dragoon started out tentatively juggling the hammer, the bottle and the bracelet, quickly finding a rhythm that seemed to work for him. At the same time his feet were working on balancing an apple on one boot, before kicking it up. Arthur watched transfixed as his hands nimbly caught the fruit and effortlessly included it in the juggling. 

Dragoon repeated the movements twice more, adding first the hat and then the shoe. His own pointy hat was so low on his face that Arthur vaguely wondered how he could even see the objects, his eyes being so obscured as they were. That also reminded him to pull down his hood, self-consciously glancing around him, but all eyes were on the great performer on stage.

As his juggling act came to a conclusion, Dragoon threw the apple right into one of the apple-bobbing barrels; the bottle landed upright on the stage a few steps to his left, only wobbling a few times; the shoe he caught with his booted foot, balancing himself on one leg. In a few rapid movements he then threw the hat high into the air, caught the hammer in his left hand and let the bracelet slip smoothly onto his right arm. He reached up and took off his own hat, sweeping into a deep showman's bow, the feathery hat twisting in the air and landing right on his head as the minstrels played their last note. 

The people burst into cheers and applause. Dragoon smiled politely, reaching up to take off the new hat as well. As he did so, the most beautiful butterflies that Arthur had ever seen flew out from underneath it, their blue wings dazzling against the orange back-drop that was the sky. 

That drew an even louder reaction from the crowd. "Where did they come from?" He heard someone close to him wonder out loud. "When did he have time to put them there?" Arthur would have liked to know the answers to those questions as well, but for now he was content just watching the butterflies flutter around the young magician. He himself was also admiring the view, looking up at the creatures in delight, his smile wrinkling his cheeks. A breeze picked up, gently ruffling the dark locks of his hair and the butterflies rode it away into the evening. Arthur was mesmerised. 

The performer broke out of his spell and turned back to his crowd. "Thank you!" Dragoon shouted, after handing the bracelet off to the knight from before and returning the other items to the crowd. "Thank you for your applause, but the show is only halfway-over. The exciting part is just about to start." His eyes flickered, and Arthur thought that it was him he locked eyes with, before turning around to grab something from his satchel. 

With his back towards the audience, Dragoon spread his arms so that his robes obscured what he was doing. Suddenly, he was backlit by the soft glow of a fire. As he turned around, he revealed three more unlit torches in his right hand. The audience quieted down in anticipation as drums started playing rhythmically. A slow beat started building up the suspense.

Dragoon made a show of opening a flask and taking a few large sips, storing the liquid into his mouth. He then stepped forward and swept his robe off to one side. Stretching the unlit torches out towards one side and holding the flame almost directly to his face, he spit out a series of large fireballs. The torches were all lit now.

The people started clapping again, but Dragoon motioned for silence. The drumbeats increased in speed as Dragoon now started waving the torched around, slashing them through the air in complicated motions. Suddenly the image of a dragon appeared out of the flames, the fiery wisps making it seem as if it was flying through the air. Arthur noticed that the dragon bore a striking resemblance to the Pendragon logo. The firelight reflected in the magician’s eyes, making them glint a gold-orange before leaving them in shadow once more.

Dragoon took another round of applause, humbly nodding and smiling at the audience. He handed the torches off to four strong-looking men, who each fastened a torch to a corner of the stage, casting him in a red light as the sky continued to darken.

"Now for my final act I will need a volunteer from the audience." Arthur's heart leapt into his throat. The nerves had finally caught up with him, along with the realisation that so many people would get to see him. This was most definitely not what Morgana had meant when she'd suggested going to the festival. For a moment Arthur considered slipping away, but then he locked eyes with Dragoon and something compelled him to stay. Dragoon smiled at him, a slightly different smile from the one he'd worn during his performance. Something gentler. A more genuine smile, Arthur hoped.

"How about you over there, big fellow in the hood? Would you be willing to help a man out?" Dragoon gestured towards him, and Arthur felt the crowd parting slightly around him. Arthur silently nodded and took a deep breath before taking a hold of the man’s extended hand. He hauled himself on the stage. He didn't dare to look at the King or the crowd, though he would have liked to see Morgana's reaction - assuming she'd recognised him. Instead he kept all his attention on Dragoon, who'd yet to let go of him. A strange expression flitted across his face, but it was gone too fast for Arthur to analyse. 

"Listen, if at any moment you feel uncomfortable, just tell me. I can have someone else take over," the man said quietly, leaning in so only Arthur could hear him.

Arthur shook his head. "Thank you, but I want to do this." And he did, despite feeling like the stage was going to give out from underneath him. Inexplicably, he really wanted to have this one experience. 

"I will be throwing knives at you, just so you know," Dragoon warned again. 

Arthur allowed himself a small shudder before putting on a brave face. "You better not scratch my skin," he joked weakly. "Or else…" he did not know how to finish that sentence, so he just lightly squeezed the man’s hand.

"Alright, then." Dragoon laughed. He let go and made to step away, but then suddenly aborted his movement. "Oh! I am so sorry I forgot to ask for your name."

“William,” Arthur lied, suddenly pressingly aware of King Uther’s gaze. His face might be obscured but only so much could be done about his bulky figure. “Well met.”

“And you,” Dragoon replied. He then turned towards the audience to introduce ‘his lovely assistant William’. Arthur felt heat creep into his face, shifting uneasily underneath the gaze of the audience. A man with wavy hair came over to Arthur to hand him a cylindrical, hay target. Arthur recognised him as one of the men from before, who'd helped dragoon with the torches. Most likely a member of the Court of Miracles then. 

"The easiest way to keep the target still is to hold it right against your chest," the man advised. If he thought it odd that Arthur was still wearing his hood and gloves, he did not remark on it. "Dragoon has never missed, but let's not take any chances, alright mate?" He then gestured for Arthur to go stand on one end of the stage. "Good luck!"

Arthur turned his attention back to Dragoon, who had taken position on the other end. Then, to Arthur's slight alarm, the man put a red blindfold on himself. The drums started again, seeming to echo Arthur's heartbeat. 

Taking his cue, Arthur held up the target, pressing it tightly against himself as instructed. The first dagger was thrown before he could even blink, only the shimmer of the blade and the impact registering. Looking down, he saw it neatly embedded deeply into the target, slightly further off-centre than Arthur would have liked.

A few more heartbeats before a second knife joined the first, this one even more towards the side. Arthur sincerely hoped that Dragoon would take off the blindfold, even just for a second, so he could see that his aim was slipping. To his delight, Dragoon did take it off. He glanced at the target and then winked at Arthur.

Dragoon held up a hand to the audience, waiting for silence. With a jolt Arthur was reminded that there were in fact still people watching - something he had momentarily and blissfully forgotten about with the more pressing concern of knives flying at his face. "Let's make this a tad more interesting for the last one, shall we?" 

The man from before came back and took Arthur's target away. He noticed two others rolling in an even bigger target and placing it behind him. Arthur had a sinking feeling he knew what was going to happen next. "Do you get dizzy easily?" One of the pair, a well-groomed man asked gently. Arthur, not really knowing the answer, shook his head. 

"Are you comfortable with being tied up to a spinning wheel?" And really, what was the right answer to that question?

"I suppose, yes." Definitely not that.

"Alright!" The man with the fancy hair exclaimed. "Let's tie him up!"

They tied him securely to the target with straps around his middle and additional ones at his wrists and ankles. Arthur was well aware that his larger-than-normal figure was covering more than half of the target. He wished - not for the first nor the last time - that he'd been smaller. Perhaps sensing his discomfort, Dragoon came over as well, holding another apple in his hand. "If you don't feel like spinning, I could also do an old-fashioned blindfolded throw."

"I'm good," Arthur said, not knowing why - though when he retold the story in the future, he'd claim it was to avoid that blasted red blindfold again.

Dragoon nodded slowly, thoughtfully. He showed his apple to the audience before pinning it to the wheel with another dagger, placed directly above Arthur's head. "Don't miss," Arthur said quite redundantly.

Dragoon smiled mischievously. "You're in safe hands," he said, holding up his hand with the knife in it. Arthur let out a startled laugh.

Dragoon stepped back into position on the other side of the stage. On his signal, the men started spinning the wheel. Arthur could only describe the sensation as odd, like his body was being pulled in different directions but he still wasn't going anywhere. At some point - he did not know when - he had closed his eyes. The crack of the apple being spliced open, followed by the thud of the knife hitting the wheel, signalled the end. He felt relief, although admittedly he had been so focused on the spinning that he might as well have forgotten about the knife throwing. He could hear the audience applauding, and for a few seconds he could imagine that these cheers were meant for him as well. 

With a slight jerk, the wheel came to a stop. The screaming started. Arthur opened his eyes in confusion. The first thing he noticed were Dragoon's blue eyes, wide open, staring back at him. Squirming under the scrutiny, Arthur made to pull his hood lower before realising that his hands were of course still bound, and - more importantly - that his hood had been caught by the dagger. His face was exposed. "No," he said, shaking his head. "Let me out!"

He started fighting his restraints, his eyes catching on several horrified faces in the crowd. Almost unwillingly, he lifted his gaze towards King Uther. He hadn't moved from his seat, but even from there Arthur could make out the fury written all over his face. 

"He's a monster! A monster!" someone cried out. Soon others started echoing him, adding in other insults and generally shouting abuse. "Abomination!", "He's hideous!", "You beast! Go back to where you came from!"

"Lancelot, help me release him!" he heard Dragoon shout and suddenly the man was right in front of him. "I am sorry, this wasn't supposed to happen. If I had known…," he murmured. "I'll get you out, just hang in there."

Arthur let out an involuntary noise, his body trembling. 

"Get down at once!" he heard King Uther demand, his voice carrying over that of the crowd.

Dragoon cursed and stood up, facing the King. "Yes, your honour. Just as soon as I free this poor man."

"I forbid it!" the King roared back. 

The young man stared him down for just a moment before resolutely turning back to Arthur and cutting him loose. "Keep your eyes on me, you're going to be just fine. Don't worry about them," Dragoon said. As his last binding was released Arthur sank right to the floor, his monstrous body feeling all too heavy for his legs. 

"How dare you defy me?"

Something wet hit his head hard. He wiped it off with his hand and it came back red. Two muscled arms grabbed Arthur from behind. He struggled wildly, but they dragged him upright with a stumble. More tomatoes hit him. 

"Stop that!" He could hear Dragoon shout vainly, but his voice was overwhelmed by the crowd. Then time stopped. An eerie silence rang out, for just a moment, before the crowd began anew. But the words were different this time. "He's a witch! Burn him!", "Sorcery!", "Devilry!" and one person: "I knew the butterflies were magic!

Arthur looked around in wonder. It seemed that time had not in fact frozen, but the vegetables and stones that had been thrown were now floating in the air. He almost opened his mouth to defend himself, when he realised these insults were not aimed at him. He looked at Dragoon as if seeing him for the first time. His eyes were still burning golden. There was no doubt about it that this man was a sorcerer. "You mistreat this poor boy the same way you mistreat my people,” the sorcerer spoke, his voice ringing clearly above the noise. “You speak of justice, yet you are cruel to those most in need of your help"

"Silence!" Uther cried.

"Justice!" Dragoon cried back, his eyes burning with passion and magic. 

"Mark my words, sorcerer, you will pay for this insolence," Uther hissed.

"Merlin! Get away from here, we'll cover for you!" Arthur heard one of the helpers say. The man holding him had loosened his grip and Arthur broke away from him, falling back to the ground. He saw knights of Camelot rushing towards the stage, getting pelted with the redirected vegetables and pebbles. 

"William, come with me! I can get you out of here." It took Arthur a moment to realise that he was being addressed by Dragoon, before shaking his head wildly. "You- you’re a sorcerer, they will burn you,” he stammered, staring up at him. "Leave me here."

"Merlin, get out, now!" a male voice shouted again. Arthur could see the conflicted expression on Dragoon's - or Merlin's - face.

"Listen to them," Arthur said. "I'll be fine. Go!"

And he went with a flash. A literal, blinding flash. 

"What are you waiting for? Arrest him!" he heard King Uther shout, and Arthur was not entirely sure who they were meant to arrest. The guards seemed to be in the same predicament, their movements disorganised as they were. There was no sign of the man who'd been restraining Arthur before, so he figured maybe they’d been part of Merlin's entourage. 

By now most people had scattered, daunted by the potential danger they were in, leaving Arthur's line of sight to Uther clear. "I'm sorry," Arthur whispered, before a dull thud made him lose consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was personally really happy with how this chapter turned out, it was a joy to write about Merlin's magic act. Hope you liked it as well, and a big thank you to everyone for leaving kudos!


	4. The Beast may have Stockholm Syndrome, but the Beauty does not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They bond. That's it. That's the chapter.

Chapter 4

It was still dark when Arthur woke up back in his tower. The first thing he felt was regret, followed by the cold sensation of shackles around his feet. With a soft groan, he pulled himself into a sitting position, mentally taking note of several aching spots and a heavy throbbing in the back of his head. Maybe someone had hit him unconscious there? Some part of him wished that they'd hit him harder, so he wouldn't have to wake up to these memories. Or perhaps even so he didn't have to wake up.

What happens now? Arthur felt at a loss. Would the King ever forgive him for his blatant betrayal? He’d broken the rules in front of the whole of Camelot. How come he hadn't been killed yet? Had the King saved him again? Or maybe Morgana had been the one to intervene. He thought he might have seen her pulling at the King's arms, shouting furiously as some knights had closed in on him. But then again, Arthur wasn't really sure about anything at the moment.

The man he'd met at the tents, the performer, the great Dragoon, a sorcerer, Merlin… Arthur wondered if he'd gotten away, and if so, how he should be feeling about that. Not that it was any of his business anymore, he supposed. Arthur was back inside his tower and Merlin had run off to who knows where.

It felt weird, waking up alone again, his shackles and bruises the only evidence that anything had happened at all that day. Arthur could almost pretend like nothing had happened, but he was not exactly sure if he wanted to. After all, he felt like he had lived more in a single day than he'd had all those years.

Yes, Arthur thought, maybe his only true regret was that he'd disappointed King Uther. He wondered when the King would come to see him again, or if. He wished that his life had been different, that he had been different. Normal. Arthur was not unfamiliar with the sensation but having experienced the people's reactions for himself was world's away from the King's warnings.

A small clattering sound drew Arthur's attention away from his self-hate. He looked up and in the faint candlelight he found a pebble lying in the middle of his room. Worried that a mob of angry people might be waiting outside, he scurried over towards the window, straining his shackles to see.

In the dark he could only make out a lone figure of a man, quite tall but slender. Arthur had his suspicion who it might be, and this was confirmed when a rope came floating up towards him. Arthur gestured wildly at the man, trying to convey the absurdity of the situation. Did Merlin really expect him to just aid a known sorcerer in entering the castle? And why hadn’t he already run away to somewhere safer? The figure seemed to shrug his shoulders, before badly mimicking himself scaling a wall, and then pointing upwards. Arthur silently declared the man an idiot, but he decided to go along with it out of curiosity. It's not like he was expecting other company tonight anyway.

Scanning the room once more, Arthur went and tied the loose end of the rope to a ring on the wall, the same one his own shackles were attached to. He then went back to the window and gestured for Merlin to climb. Feeling a wave of dizziness come over him, Arthur sat down on the ground again, as the chairs were out of his reach.

It took a bit longer than Arthur would have guessed, before the lithe figure of the sorcerer heaved himself through the window, finding his footing with a loud clamour.

"William, hi," Merlin waved in between hauling the rope up completely. "Um, glad to see you're in one piece."

"Same to you," Arthur replied, eyes taking in the walking puzzle in front of him. He had changed back into regular clothing at some point, though his hair looked a right mess. His feathery hat had unfortunately been forgone and a weathered neckerchief had been added. The absence of his false beard was perhaps the only improvement to his appearances. Still, Arthur was intrigued. "And my real name is Arthur, yours is Merlin?"

Merlin nodded with a grimace. "I am so sorry for what happened, I did not mean to put you in that position."

"Really?" Arthur huffed, folding his arms together challengingly. "You did not mean to tie me up to a spinning wheel?"

Merlin chuckled from where he was standing. "You're a bit of a prat, aren't you? You know what I meant. I promised you that you wouldn't be in danger and then I failed to protect you."

Arthur shrugged. "It's not entirely your fault, I went on that stage with you."

There was a frown line on Merlin's face. "Is this a safe place to talk? Because I think we have a lot to discuss."

Arthur considered it for a moment. "I don't think the King will be in here anytime soon. Even if he does plan on visiting, we should be able to hear him coming up the stairs."

"Sounds good," Merlin said, taking a seat at the table and waiting for Arthur. He was rewarded with a strange look. "What?"

"Don't you have magic?"

"Yes, so?"

"So why don’t you magic me out of these shackles, so I can join you at the table?”

"You’re chained up?” Merlin stood up in surprise, coming over to where Arthur was still hovering by the window.

“Your talent at observation is simply astounding,” he remarked dryly.

“Yeah, well. You could have said so sooner,” Merlin responded petulantly. With the faintest whisper and a glow of his eyes, Arthur was free. They went back over to the table and sat down across from each other.

"Shouldn't you be running away? Or did it slip your notice that magic is illegal in Camelot," Arthur opened with.

"They're watching all the exits, so we'll be staying for a while longer than planned."

"We?"

"Yeah. The men you saw helping me out at the performance, they're my friends. And now also fugitives. Though, admittedly, some already were. Together we are known as the Court of Miracles, although more often we're referred to as the Scoundrels of Albion." He smiled fondly, as if recalling some inside jokes.

"Do they also have…"

"Magic? No, that's just me." His smile slipped away into more of a grimace as he asked: "What about you?"

"I live here," Arthur said. "Have lived here for as long as I can remember."

"Chained up?" Merlin asked in outrage.

"No! Nothing like that, this is the first time the King has never resorted to using these before." Arthur looked down pained, realising that Merlin had not yet figured out the complete truth. "He never had to. Today was the first time I left this room."

"You've never gone outside on your own?" Merlin's voice sounded restrained, but he still did not get it.

Arthur shook his head. "I have never been outside at all."

"That's… that's insane. That's not right." Merlin shook his head before abruptly standing up and pacing furiously. "Uther has no right to do that."

"He saved my life. He took me in when no one else would," Arthur said. "You saw what happened today, I wouldn't survive out there."

"Are you being serious right now? You might not have noticed from here, but most people aren't actually that thirsty for blood."

"Then what happened today?" Arthur said, perhaps louder than he’d intended. "The King was right all along. The people hate me. I'm a monster."

At that, Merlin came to stand by his chair. He bent over, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. "You are not a monster, the King is. This is no way to treat someone, all lives should be respected. You are a human being and you deserve better than this."

Arthur shook his head, lashing out: "What do you know about it anyway, you're magic and magic is evil."

Merlin narrowed his eyes and Arthur waited in anticipation. "I don't believe you."

"What, of course you're not going to agree with you being evil."

"No, I don't believe that you think magic is evil." Merlin let Arthur go, putting some distance between them again and sitting back down. "Why? Uther thinks magic is evil, why don't you?"

Arthur swallowed thickly. He'd never discussed this topic with anyone before, always tried to avoid it with Morgana. "I can see a lot from this tower. I don't have much else to do, as you might imagine. I spend my days watching the lives of the people of Camelot play out. Their lives are always so busy, and yet there's this structure to it. I can notice it when someone falls ill, or when a new child is born. I can also see the pyres from here. I have watched so many sorcerers burn, some really young ones as well. If they were all truly evil, then I would not have seen so many loved ones, crying."

Looking back up at Merlin, Arthur felt like his whole life was about to get uprooted. And he felt strangely fine with it.

"That's… thank you for sharing that. Maybe Uther was wrong about both of us." Merlin offered him a smile.

Arthur shrugged, but did return it before speaking again: "Now tell me, how much of your performance was magic and how much was actual skill?"

"Ha! I'll have you know it was all skill, with only the occasional magic trick."

"The knives?"

"Magic."

Arthur nodded, having his suspicions confirmed. "I have to admit it was quite cunning of you to have the first two hit off-centre to build suspense."

Merlin grinned. "Yeah, very smart of me. Yup. And completely on purpose."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Merlin…"

Merlin cleared his throat. "Now that we're on the subject, what were you thinking? Going on stage when you were supposed to be hiding? I mean in a way I am glad you did, but still what were you thinking?"

"Hold on, just a while ago you were feeling guilty about it and now, all of a sudden you're blaming me?" Arthur complained.

"Yes," Merlin said unapologetically. "Cause now that we're friends, I have the right to call out your idiotic behaviour."

Arthur was strangely charmed by this, and the man in front of him. So much so that he decided to be honest. "I almost didn't, but there was just something about you."

Merlin raised one challenging eyebrow. "Something that made you want to step into the public eye, openly defying the King, just to perform in a silly circus act?"

"Yes."

"Oh." That seemed to have shut Merlin up. He blinked several times, as if seeing Arthur for the first time. Arthur resisted the instinct to turn away and hide his face, instead letting Merlin take in all the deformities he had to offer. He hadn't shied away from him on stage that day, which spoke to the kindness or bravery of the man.

"You know, I think the donkey ears really suit you," Merlin remarked, and Arthur had to amend his earlier thoughts to include that he was also quite infuriating.

"Shut up, Merlin."

And for a brief moment he did, before: "How did you get back here after I left?"

"Do you mean after you abandoned me and fled?"

"You told me to!"

"Someone knocked me out not too long after you fled, so I don't actually know."

Merlin hummed.

"What?" Arthur asked.

"There is one thing I don't understand."

"Only one?"

Merlin shot him a look. "You're hilarious. But I am being serious now. What motive does Uther have for keeping you here, what does he have to gain?"

Arthur sighed, leaning back against his chair. "Why can't it just be out of the goodness of his heart?"

"Try again," Merlin said.

"I don't know what you want me to say. He saved me when I was young. Said a sorcerer had put a curse on me."

"What about your parents?"

"I don't know. I… I think they're either dead or they didn't want me."

"Uther never told you about them?"

Arthur shook his head. "I don't even know for sure if he knew them personally. I think he might have.”

Merlin chewed his lip, hand reaching up to fiddle with his neckerchief. "What about other visitors? Are there any others?"

Arthur hesitated before answering: "Two, yes. One of them might know more but he has always been hesitant to tell me anything about myself, or the King." Noting Merlin's frown, he rushed to defend Gaius. "But other than that, he's been a great support to me. He's the one who taught me to read and write. He's a good man."

Merlin opened his mouth - likely to say something about Arthur's skewed perspective - but before he could, sounds from outside drew their attention. They went over to the window to check. Four knights had just come around the corner, their plated armour clattering loudly into the night.

"They're changing shifts," Arthur explained, pointing towards the gate where four other knights were already waiting. "But there's more of them than usual. That might mean that the King has ordered them to keep searching through the night."

"Does that happen often?" Merlin asked.

"Not really," Arthur admitted.

Merlin hummed in thought, arms folding over themselves. "In a way that's kind of flattering."

Arthur studied him closely. For all his bravado the man looked very dishevelled still. Arthur felt a surge of protectiveness come over him. "If you want, you can stay here for the night. That is, to sleep of course. Until the guards lower their… guards," he stammered. "I do only have one bed, though."

"That's very forward of you," Merlin teased, turning away from the window to face him.

"Shut up." Arthur felt his cheeks heat up.

"Thank you for letting me stay," Merlin said sincerely. "I'm used to sleeping on the floor, anyway. Is it alright with you if I light the fire? Not all of us are covered in fur."

"Go ahead. There's not much firewood but I'm sure you can work around that. You can take my covers as well, I will just use my cloak for tonight," Arthur said, laying them out on a clear spot on the floor, near to where his own cot was.

"Look at you, playing the chivalrous knight." Merlin went towards the fireplace, rearranging the sparse wood before whispering something. The fire flickered on without any trouble.

"You know, I used to dream of being a knight," Arthur shared, staring into the flames. "Made up stories about it, imagined other lives."

"Is that where the name William came from?" Merlin glanced at him from over his shoulder, still in his hunched position.

"Yes, it is."

"Tell me about him," he said. He lay down on the make-shift cot and rolled on his side, propping his head up on one arm.

Arthur mirrored his movements, lying down on his bed facing Merlin. "He used to be a farmer - that's something else I have dreamed about being - but then he came to Camelot and befriended some knights. They saw how talented he was with a sword and took him to the King to be knighted. He became Sir William of Daira."

"I don't see you being a farmer," Merlin interjected. "Being a knight suits you more."

"Well, William got to be both. He gets to ride horses, duel with other knights and slay dragons."

"You could do those things as well. Well, maybe not the dragon-slaying, but definitely the other two." Merlin nodded emphatically.

"Who knows," Arthur sighed, too tired to argue about it. "At least I have had some practice with a sword. I bet you couldn't handle one to save your life, at least not without cheating."

"Magic's not cheating. And really? How did you pull that off?"

"Morgana stole some swords and together we copied the exercises we've seen the knights do."

"Morgana?" Merlin repeated. "Isn't that the princess?"

"She's my other visitor," Arthur let slip. "You'd like her. She's just as annoying."

"Friends with a princess, prisoner of the King," Merlin thought out loud. "You're just full of surprises. Not to mention the curse."

"Go to sleep, Merlin."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"And blow the candles out," Arthur said, rolling over. A breeze blew in from the window, leaving the small fireplace as the only light source. And yet, to Arthur, his cold and dark tower seemed a little bit brighter that night.

* * *

"Rise and shine!" Arthur heard, before his cloak was abruptly pulled away from him. Blearily, he opened one eye to see Merlin's figure standing in front of him, silhouetted by the soft light of sunrise. Arthur groaned and closed his eyes again.

"Wake up, you big oaf!" Merlin was now physically shaking him.

"It's still dark out," Arthur muttered, though it was mostly muffled by his arm.

"I know, best to slip out now before it gets even lighter."

That woke him up. "You're leaving already?" He exclaimed, taking a hold of Merlin's arms. Then, looking at his own hairy arms, he quickly pulled them back.

If Merlin had noticed he did not call him out on it. "Do you want to come with me? Leave this place?"

Arthur let Merlin go and got out of bed, putting some distance between them by walking over to the window to consider it. He did like Merlin and more importantly: he trusted him. But… "I'm not ready, I feel like I have unfinished business here." As he said it, Arthur realised it to be true. Inexplicably, he felt like so many years spent inside could not just end that simply. There must be something more to it. Perhaps the thing that Arthur was looking for was closure.

Merlin nodded again, as if he'd been expecting that. "Alright, if you're sure. Meanwhile I will meet back up with my friends and hopefully get out of here."

"Are you sure you'll be fine?" Arthur asked worriedly.

"It almost sounds like you want me to stay."

"Don't be such an idiot, Merlin," he deflected.

"No, you're the idiot if you think I'm just going to leave you like this," Merlin said, walking over to him, putting on hand on the windowsill. "I'll be back as soon as I can, and…" he trailed off. "I also want to try and help you lift the curse."

Arthur's heart stopped. "Do you think that's even possible?"

"I don't want to give you false hope," Merlin began. "But almost all curses have some way to break them. Some of them are easier than others, but we shall see. I have collected some books along the years, I might be able to find something in them."

Arthur stared at him in wonder. Could this man really give him the one thing he'd always wanted? A chance to be normal. "Thank you, Merlin. That means a lot to me."

Merlin smiled. "I'll do my best. And if you plan on sneaking out again without me, maybe you could use this." He undid his neckerchief, holding it out for Arthur to take. "To cover the bottom-half of your face, since clearly a hood does not work for you."

"It was working just fine before you showed up, Merlin." Arthur took the neckerchief in his hands and held on to it tightly. "But thank you, it might come in use despite its hideousness," Arthur said, only half-aware of the irony. He checked the sun's position and then scanned the castle grounds. "Now should be a safe moment to go. I don't expect any guards to check back here until the sun's completely up."

"Alright, let's get this rope going." Merlin sighed.

"I can just lower you down this time, no need to climb all the way," Arthur suggested.

Merlin frowned. "Hang on, why didn't you do that for me yesterday!"

Arthur just smirked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working title: "The night of so much dialogue"
> 
> Sometime it just be like that *shrugs*


	5. Finding Marlin

Chapter 5

"Arthur, how are you feeling?" and "You idiot, I am so proud of you!" were what Arthur heard when the door opened. It was well into the afternoon by now, and Arthur hadn't done much except hide the neckerchief away in the pocket of his cloak, that was slung across a chair. At some point someone had also shoved some bread and water through the latch on his door.

"Morgana, Gaius, I am glad to see you both," Arthur said in greeting. Thinking about it, he rarely saw both of them at once. "I am well, only a few sores."

"I am sorry we could not come any sooner. Uther is quite furious as you can imagine," the physician began, and Morgana finished: "which is brilliant!"

"I know. He even chained me up."

"You don't seem very fazed by it all." Gaius remarked, studying him with a raised eyebrow. He then looked at the chains lying on the ground beside the door. "Nor do you seem to be chained up."

"Hm? Oh, yes, Merlin took them off for me. Although, you might know him better as the Great Dragoon?"

Noticing their understandable confusion, Arthur informed them of last day's events. How they'd met and what they’d talked about after Merlin had shown up at his window. He watched as their expressions shifted from slight amusement ("He spent the night? Way to go, lover boy!") to astonishment.

"So, he wants to help you break the curse? Arthur, that's amazing!" Morgana said once he'd finished his story.

"Gaius doesn't seem to think so," Arthur called him out.

The old man had a concerned look upon his face. "I am happy for you, Arthur. But let's not forget that we are dealing with an unknown sorcerer with unknown motives."

"You think he's using me to gain access to the castle," Arthur realised.

"Of course, I can only assume. Even if his motives are good, you should be careful to keep your expectations in check." It went unsaid here that Gaius had already read through many books, though only a few of the forbidden kind.

Arthur nodded, more for Gaius's sake than his own. "I know that there's little chance of success, but it is still more than what I have had all my life."

"He did seem like he knew what he was doing on stage," Morgana said. "And his magic looked so effortless and seamlessly woven into his performance. If I were you, I would have run off with him the first chance I got!"

Arthur frowned. "You? What reason would you have for running off with a sorcerer."

"I have enough reasons, none of which are any of your business," Morgana snapped.

"You have never even spoken to Merlin, and now you want to elope?"

"Children, please!" Gaius intervened. "Now, Arthur, does this Merlin have a last name?"

"Not that I know of."

"Underneath his disguise, was he about your same age?"

"I think so, yes." Arthur frowned. "Why? Have you seen him before?"

Gaius shook his head. "Not quite, but I do have a suspicion. I will need to write a letter to be certain of anything."

"A good suspicion?" Morgana guessed.

"If he is who I think he is, he has led a rough life. I won't go as far as to make any guesses as to his nature, but he could prove to be very powerful indeed."

"All the more reason to go with him, next time," Morgana said with a pointed look at Arthur.

"Or, all the more reason to be wary," Arthur said just to be contrary. Truth was, he did not feel wary of Merlin at all, but he also did not like the way Morgana was so insistent on him leaving. He thought their friendship had meant more to her. The logical part of his brain knew she probably just wanted him to be free. She'd been the one to push him out of the tower, metaphorically speaking.

Before they could delve into another argument a knock on the door sounded. Arthur startled; he hadn't noticed the footsteps at all. "Princess Morgana, Gaius? I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave again for now," a male voice called.

Arthur eyed the two suspiciously. "Who's that?"

"Ah, the King has seen it fit to station a guard downstairs," Gaius informed him. "We did mean to warn you."

"Did you bribe him to let you up?" Arthur guessed. He knew Morgana's ways well enough.

"Don't be silly, Arthur," Morgana said. "Sir Leon doesn't take bribes, he does listen to reason, however, a rare skill for a knight of Camelot to possess. Not to mention I hold some persuasive power as the princess of Camelot."

"I also mentioned the need to check on your physical well-being."

"But it was mostly my charms."

Arthur made a disgusted face.

The man - or knight apparently - cleared his throat, reminding them he was still waiting at the door.

"Right, we'll be sure to visit again soon," Morgana said, smoothing her dress as she stood up. “But we can only do so when Leon is on shift.”

"I might have to make a short trip," Gaius said. "To visit an old friend and find out more about Merlin."

Arthur nodded. "I would appreciate that very much."

"Arthur," Morgana said, taking on a serious tone. "I hope to see you again, but if the opportunity presents itself for you to go… I won't forgive you if you stay."

Arthur nodded. "Thank you. But don't worry, I want to see the King one last time before I go."

* * *

As it turned out, Arthur did not have to wait too long. The evening of the next day saw Arthur once again hosting a visitor. Arthur waited for him at the table, instead of greeting him at the door as he’d otherwise have done.

"Arthur," the King acknowledged. He looked troubled and as always, he avoided looking at Arthur, inspecting the room instead.

"Your Majesty," Arthur greeted him, inclining his head in lieu of a bow. He carefully scanned the King, looking for signs of anger at his disrespect. He did not seem to even have noticed it, too fixated with staring back at the door. He did look angry still, but in more of a detached manner.

"You made quite a spectacle of yourself, fooling around at the festival," he sneered. "You have disappointed me."

Arthur winced. "I am sorry to hear that."

"Are you? To me it seems like your mind is occupied with something else. Perhaps, the sorcerer?"

"I did not know he had magic," Arthur heard himself say. "He was just a kind man who-"

"That boy was a sorcerer, sorcerers are not capable of any compassion or love," Uther roared, his gaze snapping towards Arthur, his jaw tightly clenched and his eyes narrowed with intensity.

The scrutinizing look made him feel small. "He didn't seem that way to me," Arthur began. "He wasn't evil."

Uther lunged forward, grabbing Arthur by the colour of his shirt and throwing him on the floor. Caught by surprise, Arthur only had so much time to react and cushion his fall. "Think, boy. Think of your mother." Arthur almost couldn't recognize the voice as that of the King. "She would still be here if it weren't for sorcerers like him. And you would have grown up loved by the people, if it weren't for sorcerers like him."

Arthur stared up at the ruffled King. His face had coloured red and he wore an expression that could only be described as bitter. Arthur had never heard the King volunteer any information on his mother before, and it seemed strange to him how emotional it had made the King. He had always suspected the King must have known her for him to care enough about Arthur to take him in, but maybe the connection ran deeper than simply knowing.

"Who was my mother?" Arthur asked quietly. "And my father?"

"Your… parents." Uther paused, pain clouding his face now as he delved into the past. "They made the mistake of trusting magic and they paid for it. You paid for it. I won't allow you to make the same mistake. All magic is evil, and all sorcerers have to burn."

Arthur's mind was racing but all he could say was: "Merlin isn't evil."

Uther's eyes flickered towards the shackles. "Merlin," he repeated thoughtfully. "I see. He's got you under his spell already. What chance would a poor misshapen child like you have against his heathen treachery?"

"Spell?"

"Well, never you mind, Arthur. He'll be out of our lives soon enough. I will free you from his evil spell." He marched over to a candle, circling his gloved hands above the flame and casting shadows across the room, before snuffing it. "He will torment you no longer."

"What do you mean?" Arthur scrambled up from the floor.

The King deftly stepped past him, turning around at the door. "I know where his hideout is,” he confided with a dark grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. “And tomorrow at dawn, we attack."

Now, as a king, Uther was too respectable to slam the door, but to Arthur's ears it felt like the loudest noise he'd ever heard, followed by the loudest silence. Merlin was in danger. Arthur had to find him and warn him.

Arthur scrambled around his room. He couldn't go through the door, not with the guard stationed there. Even if it was Sir Leon from before, he doubted the knight would be alright with Arthur leaving. That left the window. Merlin had left the rope he'd used behind, so Arthur could possibly tie it up again and scale down. The ring on the wall – the one on which his chains were still attached - had managed Merlin’s weight just fine, but he was a skinny boy and Arthur was a gigantic monster of a man. Still, he went to search for the rope.

He rummaged through the mess that was his cloak, but his fingers felt clumsier than ever, constantly getting tangled up in the holes of the fabric. The reason became apparent when he tore straight through his cloak and saw the state of his nails. Or rather, his newly formed claws. He roared in frustration, squeezing his hands into tight fists until he was sure he'd pierced skin.

Arthur felt worse than a monster. He felt helpless.

He had put so much time and effort into learning how to live with his heavy, swollen limbs and his oversized, hairy hands, and for the most part he'd triumphed. He learned how to write, how to carry a sword and use it as well. Had it all been for naught? These claws had set him back to square one. Was the curse only ever going to get worse? Was the rest of his life destined to be a constant struggle to perform everyday tasks? He was never going to be anybody's knight in shining armour, definitely not Merlin's.

He looked down at the tattered fabrics of his cloak, a hint of a red neckerchief poking out from underneath. He bent down, carefully scooping it up with just the palms of his hands. Turning it over, he noticed he'd gotten a bit of blood on it. He hoped Merlin wouldn't mind, if he ever managed to get it back to him. Arthur knew he had to try. Even if he had to learn how to tie a rope without using his fingers. And then how to scale a tower with sharp nails that could cut the rope in just a single wrong movement. He could not sit idly by.

If there was one thing going for him it was the fact that it was night, and Arthur suspected the patrols would be less frequent now that Uther already knew Merlin's whereabouts. In fact, most of the knights would probably be either resting or preparing for tomorrow. Arthur knew where the horses were kept, the stables were clearly visible from his window. Another thing he'd have to learn would be how to ride a horse. But before he could do any of those things he'd have to find out where Merlin was.

If Uther knew, it was likely that some of his men knew as well. Arthur did not like the prospect of sneaking around indoors since he did not know the layout of the castle, but he could not think of another way to find out more information.

The sound of footsteps running up the stairs drew him away from his thoughts. He clenched the neckerchief in a tight ball in his fist and hid it behind him, turning to face the door.

"Arthur!" She seemed to be wearing a nightdress, her hair loosened behind her.

"Morgana." He sank in relief. "I need your help."

She looked concerned. "Someone informed me that Uther has been to visit you. Arthur, are you leaving?"

He shook his head, but then after some consideration, he nodded. "Yes, I suppose I am, but that's not the point right now. Uther knows where Merlin is hiding, we need to go warn him. But I can't do it alone."

Morgana paled. "It can't be coming true."

"Yes, it is, they're planning a raid tomorrow morning we need to hurry," Arthur prompted. "I need you to eavesdrop on the knights for me, find out his location."

Morgana had a far-away look to her. "Arthur, show me your hands."

"What?" Did she know, or was she simply referring to the neckerchief he was holding. Hesitantly, Arthur presented his clawed hand with the red fabric in it.

"The curse got worse," Morgana breathed out, devastation written all over her face.

Arthur nodded solemnly. "It did."

He waited for Morgana to regain herself, but instead she said: "Arthur, I have magic."

* * *

"You… what now?"

"I have magic, I think I have had it for a while now. That's how I was able to find you in the first place all those years ago. I could feel the magic of the curse calling to me," she burst out, she spoke quickly but without stumbling. In fact, she looked much calmer now than she did before. Perhaps it was the weight of the secret lifting from her shoulders.

Arthur was shell-shocked. He had already made peace with magic not equalling evil, but he had not expected it to be so prevalent in his life. "Does Uther know?"

"What are you talking about, of course he doesn't know! The Princess of Camelot having magic, oh yes he's just going to love that." She looked at him as if he’d gone crazy.

"You're his daughter, you could prove to him that magic isn't evil!"

"At most, he might spare me the pyre - but if you think Uther would think twice about locking me up because of my magic then you'd be sorely mistaken," Morgana snapped. "Uther does not care about his family, if you haven't realised that by now then you clearly don't know him at all."

Arthur grimaced. "I'm sorry. I just don't know what to say."

"Clearly," she scoffed. "But as much as I'd love to talk more about all of my secrets," - for the love of Camelot, Arthur thought, there were more? - "you need to focus on Merlin. That blindfold you're holding, it's his, isn't it?"

Her change in subject was like a whiplash, driving Arthur's mind back into working. Morgana's secrets could wait a bit longer. "Right, the… blindfold? He used it as a neckerchief before, but yes. It's Merlin's."

"I have never tried it before, but I have heard about magic that allows you to enchant objects to point you into the direction of its owner. I bet Gaius's secret book of spells has the incantation in it,” Morgana mused out loud.

"Gaius his what now?" Arthur repeated.

Morgana tutted. "Not the right time to be asking these questions if you want me to save your friend."

"He's not my-" Arthur began but Morgana had already glided past him and through the door once more.

Fed up, Arthur went after her, down the stairs and caught her by the elbow. "Wait up, I'm coming with you."

Morgana pried his hand from her arm and studied it for a second. "Perhaps it's not too late to change things," she mused, then looked him in the eyes. "You go and ready two horses, I'll meet you at the stables. "

Arthur grinned. Then he noticed the still body of a knight next to the heavy wooden door. "Is that Leon then?"

"No, I think Uther started to suspect him,” Morgana grimaced. “This one is Uther's man through and through. Wouldn't even let me in, so I had to put him to sleep."

"Right, because you have magic," Arthur said. "Alright, I'll see you in a few if all goes well."

"You better not muck up then."

* * *

Arthur was outside again, without a cloak this time. He crept as silently as he could, ducking behind a corner once when a guard passed him. Then he made a run for it to the stables, slowing down to avoid spooking the horses.

"Ready the horses," he muttered to himself. "So that involves a saddle and… a mouthpiece?" He tried to recall whenever he'd watched a servant do it and mimic the motions, only struggling a little with getting things on the right way around. The horses had initially not responded much to his uncommon appearance, but he felt like perhaps they could sense his nerves as he waited for Morgana to show up. He waited for a long while.

When she finally appeared, neckerchief rolled up in her hand, he noticed that she was also carrying two swords.

"Did you steal us another pair?" he asked amused. "I could have just brought the ones I had in the tower."

"Those wouldn't have done at all, too blunt," she argued. "Now just take this sword already. I also borrowed this belt. It should fit you quite easily. Armoured knights aren’t any less bulky than you."

Arthur felt almost like a knight when he fastened the belt and put the sword in its holster. It was then that he noticed the claws had gone away again. They had been gone for a while, he realised, even before he'd saddled the horses.

"Morgana!" he said and held his hands up. "They've gone back to normal again!"

"Took you long enough to notice. And they're not quite normal, not yet. For that, we will have to find your Merlin." She elegantly mounted her horse.

Arthur set his jaw and used his newly restored hands to do the same, less elegantly. "Ladies first," he said, more so that she wouldn't get to see his attempts at getting the horse to move.

Palm up, Morgana threw the neckerchief into the air. It folded itself into something resembling a bird shape and flew straight-lined into (presumably) Merlin's direction. It then circled back as if to say: "Are you coming?"

"Let's go find Merlin," Arthur said. They set off.

* * *

Unbeknownst to them, they would not be the last ones to visit the stables that day. Far from it. A group of knights, only Uther's most trusted men, were gearing up for something big. They rode their horses - burdened with the combined weight of their body mass, armour, weapons and shackles - off into the woods, lazily following the tracks that had been laid out for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may be enjoying my own chapter titles a bit too much. FIY this chapter's working title was "The one in which your beloved storyteller gets lost in the drama", but then I decided to go for the Disney references which I also really like.
> 
> The next one is also just pure insanity. You can expect it some time later this week.
> 
> Edit: Apologies if anyone subscribed and got multiple emails, I was having some trouble with the postdates. I only just found out about the problem of saving all chapters as drafts. The story should be easier to find now!


	6. Robin Hood but the Robin is a Merlin and definitely not a fox

Chapter 6

As you might imagine, it can be quite difficult to ride a horse for the first time. Even more so when it's in the dark and you are rushing at full speed through a forest, chasing a magically enchanted red neckerchief in the form of a bird. Not to mention having been cursed with a bent spine and large hairy hands, to name a few. Suffice it to say that Arthur was having the time of his life. 

"I can't believe we haven't done this before!" Arthur exclaimed, ducking underneath a branch and clinging on to the reins. He felt very grateful that Morgana had had the foresight to learn a light-spell as well. The two glowing orbs were much brighter than the moon's faint reflections. "Morgana why haven't you told me it would feel so… freeing?" 

"You should listen to me more. Now, quiet! We don't want any unfriendly attention." Morgana said, twisting her head only for a moment before focusing on the floating fabric again. Since they had left Camelot behind them it had not once hesitated, seemingly knowing exactly where Merlin was. It had shot away in a straight line and would not have come back if Morgana hadn't called for it to wait every so often while Arthur and she had to circle round an obstacle or navigate down a hill. Arthur never knew there were so many hills.

So far, they hadn't run into any other living creatures yet, human or otherwise. Arthur assumed all the animals had scattered at the sound of hooves, and the bandits seemed to have made themselves scarce. That did not stop him from feeling a little paranoid at times, but he'd quickly learned that he did not have much time to look back over his shoulder.

"Arthur, look!" Morgana called out. She reigned in her horse a bit, slowing it down to a trod. Arthur came up beside her. "I think I know where we are."

In the forest ahead of them, Arthur could make out some sort of man-made structure arching over the path. Several large boulders lay scattered around, and he thought one of them had a face on it. On closer inspection he saw that they were statues, each standing on their own little platform.

"I think this might be the Valley of the Fallen Kings." She looked around in awe. "Arthur, I can sense magic here."

"The neckerchief has also slowed down," Arthur commented. It was now circling above one of the statues. It was of a man dressed like royalty but wearing a particularly detailed jester's hat. Arthur dismounted, stumbling a bit as his feet hit the ground. He tied the horse to a nearby tree as Morgana did the same. "Could this be an entrance?"

Morgana bent over, studying the raised platform. "There are some inscriptions, but they look strange. I wonder if it's a magical language."

Arthur hummed. He stepped up to the statue and pushed. After an initial hesitation it started moving. A staircase leading down into the ground was revealed. The neckerchief lazily flew past him, as if content to take its time now that they were drawing closer to its owner. "Solved it," he said, smugly turning towards Morgana.

She rolled her eyes in response and pushed him aside, descending the steps. The magical lights followed with a wave of her hand, trailing after the red cloth, and lastly went Arthur. 

The walls of the tunnel were covered top to bottom with more inscriptions. Arthur couldn't help imagining someone getting stuck underground with nothing else to do than to carve out these walls. It made him a little claustrophobic, despite him being used to confinement. 

"Arthur, quit your loud stomping," Morgana chastised him in a hushed tone. "Or else you'll attract trouble."

"I'm doing my best," Arthur whispered back. "But I'm not as lite as you, if you remember." 

Morgana ignored him. "Speaking of trouble," she muttered. "We should have run into some by now."

"What do you mean?" The tunnel seemed to be widening out into a room ahead of them.

"You know, a guard, a booby trap-" Metal clanged loudly behind them. The white-blue lights of the magic orbs disappeared suddenly as Morgana lost her focus. They both turned around in shock. In the darkness, they could only just see a gate that had dropped down from the ceiling, blocking their entrance. "An ambush," Arthur finished for her, turning back around again at the sound of footsteps.

"Well well well, what have we here?" A voice sang out from the dark of the room. Torches were lit, and suddenly three men stood before them. On the left was a large, muscular one, standing with his bare arms crossed over his chest. On the right was a dark-skinned man, dressed in full knight's armour but with the crest torn off. The man in the centre was the one who'd spoken, with handsomely groomed brown hair and a smirk adorning his face. "Trespassers? Spies?"

"We're not spies," Morgana said at the same time that Arthur began: "You've got to listen-"

"Don't interrupt me!" the man raised his sword, pointing it at them. Arthur's hand began twitching towards his own sword, but a pointed look from the left man made him stop.

Satisfied with their silence, the man relaxed his stance and continued. "You're very clever to have found our little hideaway. Unfortunately, you won't live to tell the tale!" He raised his sword again, pointing it briefly at Morgana's throat, before shying away from her and aiming it at Arthur's.

"Alright, you've had your theatrics, Gwaine," the man on the right chuckled. "For real now, who are you and what are you doing here?"

Recognition dawned on Arthur. "You're Merlin's friends, the Court of Miracles! We've come to warn him!"

"Or have you come to claim the reward for his capture?"

"Please, I'm a princess I have no need for more gold," Morgana scoffed, as if she'd been deeply insulted.

"Princess?" the first man, Gwaine, repeated, eyeing her with interest. "That means you're on the King's side. Percival, tie them up."

Morgana drew her sword in a flash, but Arthur halted her with a raised hand. "Wait! We've come in peace.” He slowly drew his own sword and put it on the ground. He nudged Morgana, urging her to do the same. “Just let us talk to Merlin, he can vouch for us. Please." 

The men glanced at each other, silently communicating. "Alright then," the armoured knight relented. "Merlin is in another cave right now so we'll let him decide once he's back. We'll take you with us, but we will still need to tie you up."

Arthur nodded. "That's understandable," he said, stepping up towards Percival who already held the ropes at a ready.

Morgana huffed. "Fine, but if your hands wander anywhere they shouldn't, I swear you will live to regret it." Gwaine visibly swallowed before carefully taking her sword and tying her hands together.

"Elyan," the big man spoke for the first time. "Does that look like Merlin's neckerchief to you?"

The red fabric in question had previously shot down the long tunnel, but now it seemed to have returned and it was slamming itself against the ceiling as if it were confused.

"Yes, it does." Elyan turned on them with suspicion evident in his frown. "How did you get this? What have you done to Merlin?"

"We haven't done a thing!" Morgana exclaimed. "He gave it to Arthur. If anything, this should prove our innocence since I clearly have magic."

"It wasn't that clear," Arthur muttered, though he was shortly silenced by her glare.

"Hm, I don't know. I still think you're a spy sent here to seduce me into betraying my friends. It wouldn't be the first time someone's tried that. Apparently, I have a certain reputation." Gwaine winked.

Morgana made a disgusted noise, looking this close to giving him a swift kick to his privates.

Then the handkerchief changed its mind again, flying happily away through the gate, down the tunnel that they'd just come from. That meant Merlin must be heading their way!

"Let's all keep it civil," Arthur tried to deescalate the situation. "We're on the same side here. Merlin should be here any moment now to sort it out."

As he said it, rushed footsteps became audible. Two figures loomed up out of the darkness. A spell and a glowing pair of eyes later, and the gate found its way back attached to the ceiling. "You called?" Merlin said, walking towards them. His neckerchief lay snuggled contently around his neck again. Beside Merlin was another man, one that Arthur remembered had tied him to the wheel. 

"Arthur! I wasn't expecting to see you here," Merlin greeted him with a smile.

"We came to warn you. Uther knows where you are and is planning an attack at dawn," Arthur explained. "You need to get out of here."

"Merlin, you didn't tell us you'd collected a new stray!" Gwaine exclaimed. 

"Huh, guess I forgot? Guys, this is Arthur and- oh!" Merlin clumsily gave a half bow. "Princess Morgana."

She sniffed. "At last, someone with manners. Merlin, it is a pleasure to meet you officially. I thought you were wonderful at the festival and I’ll have you know that Arthur could not shut up about you." 

Merlin’s cheeks coloured. "Ah, right. Thank you. So, anyway, these are my friends. It seems you've already met Percival, Gwaine and Elyan. This here is Lancelot." He gestured towards the man next to him. “Together we are the Court of Miracles.”

"Your highness, Arthur, a pleasure to meet you." Lancelot charmingly extended a hand towards Morgana, taking hers when it was offered and kissing it. 

"Right, with the introductions done, please untie them. And return their weapons. They're our friends." Merlin turned to Arthur. "You said the King knows of our hide-out?"

Arthur nodded resolutely, rubbing his arms where the ropes had come off. This must have been the third time he’d been tied up, in only a week’s time. "Yes, he told me so himself." 

"In that case, let's not waste any more time. We'll go pack up our supplies, you can stay here with our guests," Lancelot suggested to Merlin.

He agreed and turned towards Arthur. "You took a great risk in coming here. It might not exactly have shown, but we're grateful," he said, resting a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "Have you thought about my offer? Will you be coming with us?"

"Yes, if you'll have me." He glanced a bit warily at the men.

"C'mon mate, a friend of Merlin's is a friend to all of us." Gwaine clapped him on the other shoulder. "I am sorry for the rough introductions, we just had to make sure you weren't a spy."

Elyan nodded along. "We have learned the hard way to be careful. It didn't help that you walked right into our home."

Arthur waved a hand. "Forget about it, I probably would have done the same had the roles been reversed."

They watched the four men hurry away down the tunnel, leaving Merlin with Morgana and Arthur.

"Alright," Merlin said. "Whose idea was it to enchant my neckerchief?

"But really, Merlin. Couldn't you have left me something more useful? A map, or a location. We were lucky that Morgana happened to have magic and a brain."

"Why, thank you Arthur."

Merlin made a noise. "I didn't actually think you'd come and find me, now did I? And I for one am glad I haven't, cause otherwise we wouldn't have had this wonder." He stroked his neckerchief lovingly and it seemed to simmer in joy underneath his touch. "You'll have to teach me that spell. Wait a second… You're Uther's daughter and you have magic?" His eyes widened. 

Morgana grimaced. "That's correct."

"That must have been difficult," Merlin sympathised. "I am so sorry."

"Yes, well. Mine's not the only life that's been difficult."

Merlin nodded. "That's certainly true for all of us. If you like, you're welcome to join us as well. You would be the only woman; I hope you don't mind. Elyan's sister Gwen joins us as well from time to time, our Lancelot is head over heels for her. And don't worry about Gwaine, he's all talk, really."

"Thank you for the offer, but Camelot needs her princess.” Morgana smiled regretably.

Arthur hadn't expected a different answer but couldn't help the slight disappointment. Just because he’d never admit it to her face, didn’t mean that he wouldn’t miss her.

"Say Merlin, what brings a man like you to Camelot?" Morgana questioned. "Surely you knew it wouldn't be without danger?"

Merlin scratched his head sheepishly. "Well, it wasn't just the festival."

"It wasn't?" Arthur said.

"No, there was this woman. She said it was my destiny to free the chained dragon of Camelot, or something like it. Or maybe she said Camelot was my destiny and also there was a dragon? Anyway, so far, the only one I've freed is you." He scratched his head.

"Merlin!" Elyan announced their return. "We've got everything packed up here, let's go now!"  
The men seemed to be travelling light, for each only carried one bag with them. Except for Lancelot, who'd taken an extra satchel presumably for Merlin. 

"Did you get all of my books?" Merlin checked. 

"Right here," Lancelot replied, handing him the satchel. 

"Alright. It's been a fun few days but personally, I've never liked underground caves that much. Let's get out of here."

Gwaine and Elyan went in front, Elyan carrying a torch with him as well as a sword. Lancelot and Percival had taken it upon themselves to escort Morgana, who seemed to have taken a liking to them. This left Merlin and Arthur at the back. Soon as they'd left the small chamber for the tunnels, Merlin let the gate drop behind them again. "This place is sacred to the old religion," he explained. "This is the least I can do to protect it. I hope it will be enough."

They continued walking, down the same way Morgana and Arthur had come. Merlin conjured up another of the glowing orbs, his eyes burning gold before it receded back to blue. Arthur studied him.  
"Out of everyone here, is it just you, Merlin, who is incapable of handling a sword?" Arthur teased. The other four men seemed quite comfortable and at ease with their weapons.

Gwaine had overheard him and burst out laughing, glancing over his shoulder to say: "We did try to teach him, but he is a bit of a natural disaster."

"I have used one on several occasions," Merlin defended. "Saved all of your arses."

"Holding a sword while casting spells does not count as sword fighting, we've been over this before."

"I was fighting and I had a sword, what more do you want?"

"I'm with Gwaine on this one, that's not sword fighting," Arthur said.

"Of course you would say so, you clotpole."

Only his second trip outside the tower and Arthur was already learning new words. 

They'd made it up the stone staircase, and with a whispered spell the heavy statue moved aside. Cooler air blew in. It was still dark outside, Arthur noticed with a relief. He'd lost all sense of time, first through the mad horseback journey and then from being underground. But the night seemed to be far from over.

Just as they'd all made it out of the tunnel, a voice called out: "Cease them!"

The men sprang into action faster than Arthur could react. Gwaine and Elyan immediately setting out to fend off the knights that had been sent their way. Percival and Lancelot had also drawn their swords, but they seemed to be mainly concerned with shielding Arthur and Morgana. 

"Ástríce," Arthur heard Merlin bellow, and one soldier on his right went flying off, crashing into another one. Arthur collected himself and got out his sword. It was just on time to block an incoming attack, and he pushed the man backwards. His arms seemed to be moving on reflexes alone, for Arthur did not have the time to think about his actions. The first men went blasting off again, courtesy of Merlin, granting Arthur a short breather before another one was upon him.

Sidestepping a particularly dangerous slash, Arthur almost lost his footing against the raised stone platform. Noticing his falter, his opponent's eyes shone with a mad glint as he threw all of his weight in the next attack. Arthur moved faster than he'd ever had before and twisted aside, slamming the hilt of his sword into the man's side before pushing him down the stairs. He did not have much time to feel proud of his first victory, as the fight was still far from over. Percival, Morgana and Lancelot seemed to have teamed up, surrounded and circled by many knights. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, he thought he could see Gwaine and Elyan still fighting back to back a little further away. 

"Merlin!" He shouted worriedly. These men had come here in pursuit of him after all. At some point a fire seemed to have started, either deliberately or accidentally. It had blocked off the path on Arthur's right side. Another two men were fast approaching Arthur, preventing him from going anywhere anyway. One managed to cut him on his arm while he was fending off the other, and Arthur found himself forced backwards with each attack. 

"Arthur!" he heard Merlin cry from towards his left. "Duck!"

The word had barely registered before he found himself mid-air, diving towards the ground. He landed with a huff, and then something else much larger and heavier landed where previously the knights had been standing. Merlin had felled a whole tree for him. And it was on fire. 

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted again. He scrambled up and wiped off the sweat on his forehead. The heat of the fire was hot on his face, making it hard for him to think clearly. His eyes finally laid upon the sorcerer, who was leaning against another statue and also panting heavily. His eyes were glowing continuously, as he casted a range of verbal and non-verbal spells. Some of them were aimed at the mass of knights surrounding their friends, but most had to be used to keep Merlin's own pursuers away. His back was unprotected, however, and Arthur rushed forward to intercept a knight who was trying to surprise Merlin. 

His sword clanged against the other man’s, drawing Merlin’s attention to the sneaky attacker. "Forþ fleoge," Merlin cast, and the man fell unconscious. 

"Merlin, we have to regroup with the others before either they or the fire drive us apart," Arthur said in between heaving breaths.

"Right," he bit out. "You go ahead, I'll cover for you."

Arthur slashed a way through the soldiers, only having to block a few attacks at most before Merlin knocked them down with another of his spells. Arthur's heart stopped when he heard Merlin cry out in pain. He twisted around, finding him on his knees. Merlin was clutching a cut on his hip, blood starting to spread across his tunic. Another man lay unmoving on the ground beside him. Arthur rushed back and supported him with his shoulder. "I'm alright, it's not that deep," Merlin gritted between clenched teeth. His eyes glowed gold once more and he threw his hands out. A loud crash rang behind Arthur. "Quick, we have to get to the others."

They stumbled a few steps, climbing over yet another fallen tree and then stood still. There before them were their friends, all chained up next to each other and with a sword to their throats. At the end of the line-up, still on horseback and not a speck of dirt on him, was King Uther. "After two days of searching, the court of miracles is mine at last." A triumphant smirk formed on his face as he saw Merlin and Arthur approaching. "Look who finally decided to show up."

Merlin's grip on Arthur tightened. "Uther…" he growled. "You can have me if you let them go."

"Nice try, but you will all be coming with us tonight. And you will go voluntarily, if you want your friends to remain alive."

"Don't-" was all Gwaine managed to get out before the sword pressed tighter against his skin.

"Fine," Merlin bit out. Two knights came over and snatched him out of Arthur's grip, leaving him frozen on the spot. They chained Merlin up as well, with heavy looking iron shackles around his wrists. They clicked together with a sense of finality and a shiver ran across Arthur's back.

"If you try to perform any magic, you'll find that it's quite difficult to do so wearing those chains," Uther gloated. He then rode forward, looming over Arthur. "Dear Arthur, I always knew you would someday be of use to me."

"No," Arthur breathed, sinking deeper into his boots.

"What are you talking about?" Merlin demanded, glaring daggers at the King.

He turned towards him. "Why, he led me right to you, sorcerer."

"You're a liar!" Merlin accused, but Uther ignored him. He focused on his next target, Morgana.

"And look what else I've caught in my net. My own daughter, conspiring with enemies and sorcerers. That will be the dungeons for a few weeks, until you have learned to obey your King again." 

"I'll show you a sorcerer," Morgana spit emotionally, her eyes burned. The fires all around them roared up with her fury, before shrinking back again. Arthur was sure he'd have enjoyed her display more had the situation not looked so dire.

Uther reeled back in shock. A look of betrayal pierced through his carefully sculpted mask of disappointment and admonishment. "Cold irons!" he bit out, the red on his face no longer a mere trick of the light. "You have gone too far, Morgana. You are no longer my daughter."

He turned to his men. "There'll be a little bonfire in the square tomorrow. Everyone in Camelot is invited to attend, and you will make sure that they do. Lock these prisoners up."

"What about the monster?" One of the knights asked.

Uther glanced back at him, as if he'd forgotten about Arthur's presence already. "Take him back as well," he answered after a moment. "But not to his tower, I know another place where we can make sure he stays."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working title: "In this one the amount of speaking characters unexpectedly doubles, ft. The dreaded fight scene"
> 
> I couldn't really find a way to include Gwen without deviating from the story too much so I... didn't. Hope no one's too disappointed about that. 
> 
> Next chapter is going to be the last one. My chapters have a funny way of getting progressively longer each time and the final one is definitely going to show that. Thanks for reading + let me know if you enjoyed it!


	7. Pinnochio becomes a real man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter and boy is it a long one

Chapter 7

They spent a long night walking back to the castle, though Uther had already ridden of ahead of them with a few of his knights. Arthur had a lot on his mind. Unfortunately, he couldn't share anything as their guards strictly enforced their silence. He wanted to check on Merlin's wound; he wanted to know if anyone else had gotten seriously hurt; he wanted to know how Morgana was holding up after getting disowned; he wanted to apologise for leading Uther straight to their hide-out; he wanted to discuss a way to break free.

In the end, he never got a chance to do any of those things before they reached the gates of Camelot. Then, to his distress, two guards separated him from the rest of the group. They were to be taken to the dungeons, while the King had ordered for Arthur to go… where exactly? He cast a last look at Merlin, who seemed pained and concerned. The guards pushed his head down once more, giving him an additional kick to his shins to make him walk. They forced him down a path he'd never seen or known about before.

True to the King's words, they did not take him back to his tower. In fact, the steps they descended only led them further and further downwards beneath the castle. They passed another set of guards who upon hearing their instructions opened up a heavy looking gate. Another staircase lay behind it. Wherever they were going, Arthur got the impression that no one had visited these parts in a long time. What place could be even worse than the dungeons, for the King to have him placed there?

Arthur was soon about to find out. They came upon a withered looking corridor, broken stone decorations scattered on the ground. The guards each took hold of an arm, forcibly turning him around a corner to the right. A breeze blew in from the end of the corridor. Up ahead was another older-looking gate.

Arthur steeled himself, preparing to make one last effort to escape. One of the guards must let go of him to unlock the gate, dividing his attention. Arthur could then struggle out of the other one's grasp and hopefully slam him into the first guard. He'd then have to make a run for it. His arms may be shackled tightly together, but the shackles on his legs served more as a leash than to prevent any movements. He had already walked so far, after all.

Arthur waited for the right opportunity. But it never came. The guard merely pushed his shoulder against the gate. It gave away, swinging open with a creaking noise that came from disuse. It opened up to a dark cave, Arthur could only guess at the size of it. A very faint moonlight shone in from one side, but the opening seemed impossible to get to, due to the steep drop right in front of them. Seeing his chances dwindle away, Arthur decided to just risk it. Without any warning he threw his weight against the guard in front, twisting his arms away from the other and he reached for the man's sword.

The first guard got taken by surprise and he hit the ground. Unfortunately, Arthur fell over as well and landed on top of him.

"Oi, what do you think you're doing?" the other guard called out and Arthur heard the sound of a sword being pulled.

Arthur hurriedly scrambled off the guard, trying to pull the chains away from him in the process. The guard refused to let go and almost pulled Arthur's legs from underneath him. Arthur caught himself against the cave walls. That was the moment the second guard chose to intervene, putting his sword against Arthur's throat. "Don't even think about moving," he threatened.

Arthur raised his head in defiance against the cool blade but stayed in position. He could only watch as the first guard dusted himself off and sheathed his own sword again. "Stupid beast just had to go and cause trouble, did you?" He then fastened Arthur chains to another set of metal rings on the wall, tantalisingly close to the open gate.

It was at that moment that the dragon came swooping in.

A roar and the flapping of his wings were the only warning the guards got before fire was breathed down upon them. Arthur watched in astonishment as the large creature came flying out of the dark, landing heavily upon a raised stone platform.

The guards gave a cry and barely managed to dodge the flames, running away in a hurried retreat. Which left Arthur on his own, to stare down a dragon. He waited with trepidation, refusing to cower. Not that he could do very much, with the chains on his legs attached to the wall and his wrists shackled together.

Did Arthur hit his head or was the dragon… smirking?

"Arthur Pendragon, I admit I am surprised to see you."

Arthur did a double take. "You… can talk?"

"As can you."

Arthur did not know how to respond so he said nothing. In fact, he did not know how to deal with any part of this situation. The dragon studied him with interest, still looking mighty entertained. Arthur felt annoyance spark in him. He wanted to shout at the dragon, ask him if he planned on killing him anytime soon. But even Arthur knew that being rude to a dragon was probably a bad idea. He'd take an amused dragon over an angry one any day.

Then his mind started working again and he realised three things at the same time. "You called me Pendragon, that's not my name. But how did you even get my first name correct?"

The dragon actually chuckled, a deep rumbling noise. "You poor boy, you don't even know who you are. Your name is Arthur Pendragon and you have a great destiny laid out for you. That is how I know you."

Arthur's mind was reeling, but he forced himself to just keep talking for now. "Destiny, Merlin mentioned it before. Are you his destiny? He mentioned unchaining a dragon in Camelot. Is that you?"

"Perhaps," he said mysteriously. "But it seems that I am not the only one in need of freeing."

Why could no one in Arthur's life ever be upfront with him? Sometimes he felt like his appearances didn't even matter that much, that the real curse was all the lies and secrets that people kept surrounding him with. He did not need a riddle-tongued dragon in his life on top of it all.

"Was king Uther the one to imprison you?"

The dragon roared suddenly, his head shooting up and flames burned the ceiling of the cave. Arthur could feel the heat upon his face.

"Your father! His purge has killed all others of my kind! It was his idea to keep me, the last of the dragons, as his trophy." The dragons' yellow eyes flashed in fury.

Arthur felt an agonizing pain run down his back and he gritted his teeth. His first thought was that the dragon had attacked him, but that did not make sense. It felt more as if his own spine was shrinking in on itself and twisting, pulling his flesh with him. With a snap, the bones corrected themselves. Arthur let out a cry of pain, but when he regained himself, he stood straighter than he'd ever had before.

"What… what just happened?" he panted. "Is the curse lifting?"

"What an interesting development," the dragon commented unhelpfully. "Destiny does seem to have a funny way of playing out, this time."

"What does that even mean?" Arthur said, not whining in the slightest.

"Tell me," the dragon ignored him. "Has the witch come into her powers yet?"

"What witch are you- do you mean Morgana? I think so. Unless, there is more? She did say she had more secrets to tell but looking back on it I think she might have meant the one about us being family." Arthur's brain hurt. Or was it his head? No, his ears. His ears were hurting. "Are we family? Is Morgana my sister?"

"And the young warlock, why isn't he here with you?" The dragon once again ignored him. The only reprieve Arthur had was that the dragon also seemed to have a troubled mind. "The other side of your coin, you share a destiny that not even your King could destroy. Where is he?"

"Merlin is in the dungeons. So is Morgana, for that matter. They're going to be burned at the pyre in the morning." Arthur had been shocked before, that the King's hatred ran so deep that he'd burn his own daughter. But given the context of him having already imprisoned his son, it seemed almost logical. Horrible, terrible, but not out of character. The King had truly become a monster.

A sharp pain pierced through his head. His hands shot up reflexively, straining within the shackles to feel what was happening to him. He padded the side of his head, finding a pair of newly formed human ears. This transformation had been less painful, for some reason. Perhaps because there was more magic involved in transforming donkey ears into human ones, compared to fixing a physically bent spine.

Arthur opened his eyes again and stared right at the dragon. Could it be, was that sympathy in his expression? Well, apparently his life was bad enough to make a dragon feel bad for him. Great.

"If what you say is true, then there is little time to waste," the dragon said. "It won't be long before the first rays of sunshine are upon us, and the King is not one to waste time when it comes to burning those he hates."

"But what can I do? I can't even leave this cave!" Arthur asked desperately. The dragon was right, the night was drawing to an end. Meanwhile, he was no closer to being free. If only the curse could lift faster.

"You are a creature of magic, aren't you? Is there anything you can do about my curse? If I become a normal human being, maybe my hands and feet will shrink, and I can slip out of these chains."

The dragon breathed out a cloud of steam. "I can help you in your endeavours, but I will need you to promise me one thing first."

"Anything," Arthur said before he could think better of it.

"In return for my help, you must promise to free me. You may not have the magic required to do so, but the young warlock does. He will do as you say, but you must promise me first."

Arthur considered the request. "What will you do with your freedom? I can't have you hurting the people of Camelot."

"I am the last of my kind, there is only so much left for me to do. You will just have to risk it." The dragon eyed him shrewdly.

Arthur nodded. "Alright, I promise to free you. No one deserves to be chained up for so long. But if hear about you killing innocents, I will hunt you down for it." He stared him fearlessly into one of his eyes.

To his surprise, the dragon did not seem angered at his threat. "Yes, it is clear to me now. With some guidance, you might become the prince the prophecies have promised."

Prince. Arthur hadn't made that connection before. Technically, he supposed, he was indeed a prince. He thought he could already feel his limbs shrinking at that thought.

Then the dragon started to talk. "The sorceress who cursed you, her name is Nimueh. At Uther’s request, she had been the one to help your parents conceive. But while magic is powerful, it does not simply grant life without taking another. It was your mother's death that drove the King to madness. He blamed magic for her death and started pursuing all magic and its users. Many were killed, even more where forced into hiding. Out of revenge, Nimueh put this curse on you."

Arthur was in agony, emotionally and physically. "How does that even make sense?" he gritted out.

"History is filled with bad decisions. Especially your history. We can only hope that the future will be different."

It was working! With some squeezing Arthur managed to first free his hands, and then his feet. He did have to first take of his boots, that were now a few sizes too big for him, but his feet then went without too much of a struggle. He briefly patted himself down, familiarising himself with his 'new' body. His limbs had shrunken to normal sizes, though he was glad to note that he was not as slim as Merlin. His bulkiness had translated in him having broad shoulders. He had also shrunk a bit in length, which was disorienting. Upon inspection, his face still seemed to be misshapen but that was alright for now. As long as he was free to help his friends, nothing else mattered.

The first rays of light where already coming into the cave.

"Thank you for your help," Arthur said.

"My name, young prince, is Kilgharrah," the dragon supplied.

"Thank you, Kilgharrah," Arthur began once more. "I will not forget what you have done for me. And I will uphold my promise to free you."

* * *

"The prisoners, Morgana and Merlin, have been found guilty of the crime of sorcery. The sentence: Death!" For this special occasion, Uther had taken it upon himself to read oud the sentencing. He stood at the top of the staircase, just outside of his throne room. The citizens of Camelot were all gathered on the main square, having been called out of their bed early and made to attend. There had been a big commotion and discontent among them when they'd seen their own beloved princess tied up on the pyre.

Another peculiarity to this particular execution was the fact that four other prisoners had been made to watch from a large cage. They'd shouted in anger at seeing their friend again, tied up on the pyre.

"These evil sorcerers have put the soul of every citizen in Camelot in awful jeopardy. For justice, for Camelot, and for their own salvation, it is my sacred duty to send these unholy demons back where they belong."

"No!" Arthur interrupted him. He burst open through the large doors of the throne room, coming face to face with the King. The crowd gathered behind him gasped as one. Arthur quickly took in the situation. Two separate pyres had been built in the night. They were both to be lit by a single executioner stood ready with his torch. Eight guards instead of the regular four flanked each side of the pyres. They kept the citizens at a small distance, far enough that anyone wanting to intervene would be caught before doing so. Because of the large (enforced) turn-out, however, they were still standing closer to the pyres than Arthur had ever seen before.

"Guards!" the King called out. "Take him back where he belongs!"

Arthur knew that there wasn't much he could do, not on his own that is. "Stop this, father!" he said, deliberately using the f-word, despite not feeling very familial. Loudly, he added: "The people of Camelot deserve to know the truth."

The reaction was immediate. "Did that thing just call him father?", "What happened to him, he looks… human?" and "What truth?" was heard from among the crowd.

"Silence!" Uther cried. "This beast is clearly deranged. He doesn't know what he's saying."

"People of Camelot, my name is Arthur Pendragon. I am the son of Uther Pendragon. I have been cursed at a young age to look like a monster. The King, my own father, has kept me prisoner for twenty years." Arthur rushed to say before the guards were upon him. They muffled his voice, but he struggled against them.

"It's true!" Arthur heard Morgana say and the crowd fell silent in order to hear her. "He is my brother and your prince. The King has gone mad with hatred and must be stopped."

"Words spoken from a proven sorceress," Uther hissed. "Light the pyres! Start with her."

Then help came from an unexpected party. One of the stationed knights spun around, grabbing hold of the executioner before he could follow the King’s orders. It was Leon.

Immediately the other men were upon him, though surprisingly two more knights joined in on Leon's side of the scuffle. The people were in an uproar. Some rushed forward through the conflict, heading towards the pyres to free their princess.

In a moment of clear vision, Arthur saw the executioner smirk before letting go of the torch. He held his breath as the torch hit the ground. Then it started rolling, heading for Merlin's pyre.

With a sudden surge of strength Arthur broke free from the guards and rushed past the king, down the steps and straight into the crowd. As he fought a way through the people, Arthur lost sight of Merlin. He could smell smoke, but he did not dare to look up for any flames. There was no time to lose.

Finally, he burst into the opening. People had started backing off again when the pyre had been lit. A quick glance at the other pyre told him that Morgana had already been rescued by the people, leaving Merlin for him to save.

"Arthur!" Merlin called upon seeing him, his voice sounding strained. He coughed. The flames had not yet reached his body, but the smoke was now Arthur's main concern.

"Merlin, hold your breath! I'm coming for you!" He instructed. He then took a deep breath himself and leapt over the flames.

It was hot. Small wisps of fire were already licking at his shins as he started untying Merlin's knot. Briefly the thought flashed through his head that this would have been so much easier had he still had his claws. His newly shrunken hands may be far nimbler than they had been, but he wasn’t exactly used to them yet.

"Hurry up." He heard Merlin cough and Arthur wanted to berate him for never shutting up or doing as he was told. As it was, Arthur had just finished undoing the knots that tied his hand. His body was screaming for oxygen, forcing Arthur to take a lungful of the toxic air. He immediately started coughing and gasping in more air.

Merlin, his hands now free, had bend forward trying to reach the ties that bound his feet. Arthur tried to help, but it seemed like these were messier or more elaborate than the first one had been. Desperately he searched the ground for a piece of wood. Only one end of it was on fire, and he carefully held it up against the rope. He tried to avoid burning Merlin, but he could still hear the warlock cry out in pain.

At last the ropes gave away. Arthur grabbed Merlin's hand and pulled it over his shoulder, supporting his weight as he pulled him out of the circle of fire. Relief came over him as he saw it was Morgana who greeted them there, Leon at her side. They were still surrounded by a large circle of citizens, but the King's people had retreated for now. At some point it seemed the other prisoners had been freed as well. He saw Percival's large figure pushing a way through the crowd towards his friend, he was closely followed by Gwaine, Elyan and Lancelot.

Arthur laid Merlin out on the ground, kneeling down next to him. The man was still coughing up a fit and wearing the iron shackles. Arthur realised that they must be feeling extremely hot on his skin. "Water!" He shouted at the gathered crowd. "Someone, poor some water over his shackles!"

"I've got some over here!" he heard Lancelot respond. The man was there in the blink of an eye, carrying a bucket of water over his head. He put it down on the ground beside them and Merlin immediately doused his arms in them. The iron hissed. Merlin scrunched his face in pain. As he reopened his eyes, they were gold and burning even brighter than the pyre. Arthur felt the magic coming off of him, first pulsing angrily a few times before bursting out. The shackles broke. Magic was free once more.

Merlin blinked and his eyes went back to blue. He smiled up at Arthur. "You're looking good. Finally lost some weight?"

Arthur sacked in relief, enveloping Merlin in a hug. "You magnificent idiot," he whispered into his hair.

"Citizens of Camelot," Morgana spoke. They broke apart and looked up. All eyes were on her. Her clothes and hair might have been dishevelled, but she looked the picture of a princess as she addressed her people. "Uther has persecuted our people, ransacked our city, in his quest to destroy magic. He declared a war on a peaceful folk, a war we did not ask for. We will allow it no longer! No one else shall die at his pyres!"

The people cheered. Arthur felt pride swell in him as his sister won the people over. This was the Queen that Camelot needed. And a fierce sorceress on top of that.

"It's not over yet. Uther has retreated back inside," he overheard Leon inform Morgana. "He has got most of the knights with him, the ones who are still loyal to him. They have barricaded the door.

She nodded thoughtfully. "Let's face him." She then looked at Arthur and Merlin still on the ground, and her eyes softened. She walked over to them and Arthur stood, heaving Merlin up as well. They stood side to side.

"Brother, Merlin. Will you join me?"

"Of course, sister." Arthur smirked, answering for the both of them.

"Good."

The crowd parted for them. The three of them, together with their friends and a group of knights.

"Merlin, if you would." Morgana gestured to the large doors in front of them. "Let's make an entrance."

Merlin extended a hand and with a glow of his eyes the doors burst open inwards. The heavy metal slammed into two of Uther's knights, taking them out before the fight had even begun. An ambush of knights had seemed to be waiting for them, but Uther himself was nowhere in sight.

Having no sword of his own and with Merlin still wounded and in need of support, Arthur decided to forgo most of the fighting himself. He helped Leon direct the knights and helped Merlin spot where a bit of a magic touch was needed. He'd taken it upon himself to keep the man safe, while still trying to be helpful.

The first fight died down without too much of a loss on either side, Uther's men ended up retreating further into the castle. Leon and his knights pursued with Morgana hot on their tails. Merlin's friends lingered, looking at him with matching looks of concerned.

"Merlin, you're still hurt from last night as well," Lancelot said. "We'll be fine, please stay here."

Sensing that Merlin was about to protest, Arthur nudged him. "They're right. You look terrible, we'll both be sitting this one out."

"Yeah, mate. We'll take care of this," Gwaine called. They all left, but not before Percival shot a pointed look at Arthur. You make sure he stays safe.

But it didn't seem as if Merlin had any strength left to argue with. Once everyone else had left the room, Merlin sagged in Arthur's arms. He caught him, gently lowering him down to lie on the ground again. "You idiot," he muttered. He pulled up Merlin's shirt to examine the wound on his hip. It looked red and agitated. "Why didn't you say anything."

"I forgot. Now help me back up, you cabbagehead." But before Merlin could do anything stupid, Arthur put a hand on his chest to prevent any movement.

"You're not going anywhere like this," Arthur protested.

Merlin stilled. His gaze set upon Arthur's hand. He reached out to it with one of his own and held it above his head to study it. "Less hair, still slightly bigger than mine."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "That's oversharing a bit, don't you think?"

Merlin blinked up at him, before realisation dawned and he smiled wickedly. "What a scandalous thing to say, your highness.”

Arthur grinned and Merlin smiled back. "How did that happen anyway?" he asked, still referring to the hand.

Arthur blew out a breath. "It's a long story. I met a dragon who revealed some things to me. Oh, and before I forget, I also promised that you would free him with your magic."

"Is that an order, my prince?" Merlin wagged his eyebrows. Arthur got the feeling that the man hadn’t completely registered what he’d just said, seeing as there was no reaction whatsoever to there being a dragon involved. Then again, that could just be Merlin being Merlin.

"That's not even the proper way to address me, Merlin."

"Who cares about propriety," Merlin slurs, before grabbing hold of Arthur's head and slamming his lips down upon his own. Arthur fell forward, catching himself just in time to avoid crushing Merlin. He gasped in surprise at the sensation. Then he closed his eyes and let himself get lost in it. It left them both gasping for air once again, though in a more pleasurable way this time round. A second kiss followed.

If it were up to either of them, they would have stayed in that position indefinitely. Unfortunately, their moment of peace was soon interrupted by a distinct set of footsteps. Arthur usually only heard them going up or down his staircase, but the rhythm was unmistakable. Arthur opened his eyes, lips still locked with Merlin’s. His gaze landed on a shadow of a figure, looming over them with a dagger raised high above him.

Arthur twisted round and tackled his father to the ground. The fought briefly over control of the dagger, rolling around on the ground, each trying to gain the upper hand. "I'm going to do what I should have done twenty years ago," Uther panted.

Arthur rolled them back over with a grunt and headbutted him, making his head hit the floor with a bang. Uther was momentarily dazed, and it was enough for Arthur to wrestle the dagger free from his hands. He lifted the man upright by his collar with one hand and threateningly pointed the dagger at him. Arthur’s hand was shaking with uncontrolled emotions as he stared the man down.

The precariousness of his position seemed to dawn on Uther as the King stopped in his struggles and let go of Arthur. He held his hands up in the air. "Now, now," he said slowly, as if talking to a child. "Listen to me, Arthur."

"No, you listen!" Arthur exploded. "All my life you have told me the world is a dark, cruel place. But now I see that the only thing dark and cruel about it is people like you. You blamed magic, but actually? You are the guilty one."

Uther's face clouded over. "Evil magic has gotten in your head. I should have known you'd risk your life to save that sorcerer boy of yours. Just as you caused your own mother to die.”

Arthur shook his head resolutely, though the words hit deep. "No, I know there's more to the story. You wanted an heir, so you used magic on her. I know you did."

Something seemed to break inside Uther. "She was never meant to die! One life for another, the sorceress said. But it was never supposed to be Ygraine. Never," he whispered.

"How dare you try to pin her death on magic, on me!" Arthur roared, a tear gliding over his cheek. The hand holding his dagger was shaking so much that he was in danger of dropping it.

A hand come to lay upon his arm, gently lowering it for him. Merlin came to stand by Arthur's shoulder, keeping a suspicious eye on the King at all times as he comforted his friend. Because of course Merlin couldn't just stay put when told.

Uther chose that moment to look up again, and his expression shifting from grief to astonishment. "Arthur, my son," he breathed.

Arthur frowned at him. "Don't call me son."

The King opened his mouth to say more, but with a flick of Merlin's wrist the man's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell unconscious. "I've been wanting to do that for a while, although I'm sorry to rob you of the experience," Merlin said with a grin, turning to Arthur with a hint of gold still visible. His eyes widened.

"Arthur! You look- uhm, that is… the curse! It-" Merlin blushed. "What I'm saying is…"

Arthur lifted a hand to his face, a smile forming on his lips. He had a good feeling about where this was going. "Yes, Merlin? What is it you were going to say about my looks?" Truth be told, he'd almost forgotten about his appearances. Probably because Merlin had never treated him differently before. Although, he supposed that having this effect on Merlin could prove to be beneficial.

"The curse, I think it's lifted. Now your face just looks like that of a royal prat."

But then again, perhaps it truly didn't make a difference at all.

* * *

Epilogue

The citizens of Camelot were once again gathered in the main square, though this time they were all there of their own volition. They cheered as their royals stepped out through the gleaming new doors and came to a stop at the top of the stone stairs. Queen Morgana stood proudly waving next to her brother, the prince. It had been a unanimous decision that Morgana be appointed as the next ruler, seeing as she was an expert at matters of diplomacy, and she'd had all the court training.

Arthur himself couldn't be more relieved about it. He was glad that he didn't have to carry the burden of a whole kingdom, not after just having learned what freedom tasted like. Instead of having to negotiate with stubborn old councillors or creating laws for the distribution of resources, he got to follow his dream of being a knight. Arthur had already started undergoing regular training with the knights and was on track to soon take over the position of head knight from Sir Leon.

Leon himself didn't mind, having his hands full with the recruitment and training of new knights. After the King had been overthrown and forced into exile, all the men loyal to him had been told to either follow him in exile or resign their roles. This led to an influx of new recruits, under which also came the former members of the travelling Court of Miracles. Excluding Merlin himself, of course.

Merlin had taken on a number of responsibilities, though he would not accept any formal titles. Unofficially, he was the court's advisor on magic, Arthur's squire and consort, the librarian of all magic books and also Gaius's apprentice. The two of them had really bonded in the days that Merlin had to spend healing from the cuts and the burning.

Gaius had returned two days after the King's exile, having missed out on most of the action. Arthur did not blame him for it. Apparently, the man had indeed been able to find out more about Merlin's past, as evident when he came back with Merlin's mother in tow. Hunith had stayed at the castle for a few weeks before going back home, wrangling a promise from Merlin that he'd visit. And that he'd bring Arthur along, of course. Not that the two would ever willingly be separated for long amounts of time. Speaking of which…

Arthur turned away from the crowd, taking a few steps back inside. "Merlin!" he called. "You're late!"

"A warlock is never late. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to." Merlin appeared before him in a dramatic flash, eyes glinting with golden mischief.

Arthur groaned. "Not this again. Truly, Merlin? The beard? I know I complain about your neckerchief a lot, but this is not an improvement."

Merlin pouted. "I thought you'd like it. Brings back memories of our first meeting. Me, with knives. You, having knives thrown at you…" he sighed.

Arthur rolled his eyes at his warlock's antics. He extended his hand. "Merlin, take it off."

"Oh, alright. You're no fun, Arthur," Merlin complained. He took of the beard and placed it in Arthur's hand.

He threw it aside immediately and extended his hand once more. "Not what I meant. Are you coming?"

"Oh!" Merlin smiled. He placed his hand in Arthur's. "With you? Anywhere."

They stepped out into the daylight, cheered on by their people.

A roar rang out from overhead. Merlin looked up and roared back: "Kilgharrah! Don't you ever migrate?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was it for this story! Let me know if you liked it or if you spotted any mistakes for me to fix.
> 
> I might have one or two other stories/series in the works so keep an eye out for those


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